


Phoenix

by Coryphion



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Case Fic, Cooking, F/M, Gen, Hellhounds, Kidnapping, Post-Episode: s02e14 Candy Morningstar, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Romance, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 131,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coryphion/pseuds/Coryphion
Summary: When Lucifer returned from Vegas with Candy Morningstar by his side, Chloe didn’t forgive him. She said she didn’t need him anymore and he left, ending his cooperation with the LAPD. However, the unexpected problems at work force Chloe to ask her former partner for assistance. Lucifer agrees to help, even if he is still convinced, that by creating the Miracle, his Father set a trap for him.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 231
Kudos: 486





	1. Prologue: The Douche comes into the bar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Readers,
> 
> This story is in a certain sense a companion piece to “The Dragon on a Leash”. Together they refer to the Chinese motive of Phoenix and Dragon, that – as you know – complete each other.
> 
> However, this is not a continuation. Chloe doesn’t know and, most probably, does not suspect. For her, Lucifer is a man who tried to date her, kissed her, then disappeared and returned married. In this AU, she didn’t forgive him. When she asked him to leave, he went away and stayed away. They didn’t reconcile and he didn’t return to the LAPD.
> 
> That’s where the story starts. 
> 
> Oh, and this story is not going to swerve into darker moods, like “The Dragon”. It is going to be mostly romance, cliché and fluffy.

_You let me down… I don’t need you anymore… You should go…_

The amber liquid flows, swirling around the walls of the glass. For a moment, he plays observing the minuscule waves, imprisoned in the vessel, changing the angle of the glass or the length of the stream, watching how the movements of the fluid change consequently. Gravity, centrifugal force, density, inertia. Probably he could calculate them if he cared.

_You let me down._

He drinks the content of the glass in one swallow and it tastes like water. So, he calculates instead, how much should he drink to feel at least slight buzz in his head and decides, he wouldn’t be able to drink so much water.

_I don’t need you anymore._

That’s fine. He doesn’t need to be drunk to go through the evening, even if he doesn’t enjoy being sober. More out of custom than out of necessity he checks his appearance in the mirror and of course it is perfect, because why shouldn’t it be? The days, when his suits and shirts were destroyed during the investigations are gone. Apart from an occasional scuffle with his brother, nothing ruffles his appearance till the very evening, when the clothes are shed and hair is dishevelled in the sweet, sinful struggles while he indulges the pleasures of the flesh. (Which, by the way, recently also all taste like water).

So, he gets into the lift to get down, to his club, where the evening of entertainment and music is about to begin, to reign in the middle of it, because all these people come here for him, to watch him, to listen to him, to let themselves be seduced… And the more hidden are their desires, the more they need someone to draw them out. Like the moths falling for a very dark flame.

 _Go away,_ the voice of Chloe Decker chases the devil, when he plunges into the eager, welcoming crowd.

* * *

She should have forgiven him.

Fine, she might have been surprised, when he appeared with Candy by his side. Married. She might have feel… discarded. After all, that was one of the aims of this masquerade, of this marriage – to put some distance between them.

It worked as good as he expected, much better than he wanted.

He thought that Candy would help him to have it all. _Come when he wanted, take what he wanted._ Keep this crime-solving fun, that gave him this precious shrill of excitement, stay close to the detective, enjoying the unique experience of her company – and yet remain independent, with limits clearly drawn, with his walls up. _Not invested._

Not manipulated.

However, he didn’t calculate the fact, that the detective would make a statement of her own. Since he learnt about her miracle origins, he stopped taking her into account as the independent factor. Perhaps, this was a mistake.

Because the detective didn’t accept his terms. In the beginning, she was shocked, writhing with jealousy and disappointment. He would have perhaps found it even flattering if he hadn’t felt so… wrecked, seeing that hurt expression in her eyes. However, hours passed, the investigation was progressing and her tension didn’t ease, her anger didn’t subside. She didn’t forgive him. She didn’t warm up toward him even a bit and finally, she said these damn words: _you should leave_.

It hurt.

Wordlessly, he went away.

Oh, he would have returned. He would have returned at her first plea. Bloody Hell, she wouldn’t even have to plead. It would be enough if she asked him to come. Or texted him.

Or, asked someone to tell him to come.

But she didn’t.

And the only thing he wasn’t going to do was to go back to the precinct, unasked. After all, the devil must save some pride. He must, at least, be summoned.

The days passed, turning into weeks, and his hurt turned into steady rancour.

What’s worse, he couldn’t even freely vent up his emotions, because there was still a Mum’s problem to be solved.

Of course, he tried. He tried to dive into music, drugs and sex, his favourite coping mechanism since the orgies of the early Roman Empire (Nero Claudius was a deviant, but his parties were spectacular, even in devil’s opinion). He was doing quite well, deafening his sorrows when the news about Mum causing some extraordinary troubles reached him. At that point, he was so high and drank, that he didn’t care. However, Amenadiel did. With total disregard to the effort, Lucifer must have taken to intoxicate himself, he pulled him out of the very promising party and worked on sobering him up. It slightly backfired, because the first thing Lucifer recalled when he started getting back to reality, was that his brother lost his supernatural powers, but he – didn’t. An angel fallen from grace and the half-drunk devil made for balanced opponents. As a result, they both needed rest and heal for almost a day.

In the meantime, Mum’s superpowers started to… leak, leading to another drastic incident, unfortunately involving the customers of the fast-food bar, where also the employees from the precinct used to eat.

No, the detective wasn’t there. But she could have been.

Lucifer sobered up and started to act.

He couldn’t count on the police resources anymore, but Miss Lopez, the sunny treasure of the precinct, though unwillingly, provided him with the crucial lead to find the piece of Azrael’s blade ( _Dude, what a pity you are not here anymore. You know there is an investigation involving a guy, who says that he is God? Speaks the Bible, and heals, and all! We would get him to talk to you, that would be sooo cool!_ )

Acting behind the back of his former colleagues from the precinct, he managed to get the buckle from Johnson’s belt. No one from the precinct noticed his involvement. The fact, that the detective was distracted by flirting with some doctor, should have helped, but it didn’t. On the contrary, it seriously hindered his own concentration.

Oh, he saw her once or twice, from afar. She was so serious and decisive and unbelievably beautiful. And she didn’t seem to miss him at all.

He didn’t miss her too. The devil does not miss.

Somehow, he managed to put Azrael’s blade together, with help of Mazikeen and Amenadiel. He needed to rely more on them, while estranged by his human friends. He even stopped seeing Linda, because Mum was sniffing around his therapy sessions. He didn’t want to put the good doctor at risk. As a result, he bonded a bit closer with his… heavenly-hellish companions and distanced himself from the human perspective.

He opened the rift between words and sent Mum away not a moment too soon, saving the Earth, including Lux, Californian beaches, blues music, Trixie Espinoza and – last but not least – her stubborn mother from turning into one huge outburst of energy together with the fickle Goddess.

Once he achieved it, he felt very satisfied with himself. After all, acting against odds, he managed to save both the world and his Mother. The relief made him look at the world through the pink glass and believe again, that everything is possible and he can have it all.

He decided to go to the precinct on the next day and reconcile with Chloe Decker.

However, the next morning, he woke up with a big, white, feathery surprise. No, it was not a torn pillow, neither the stupid Greek god gracing his bed in the shape of the swan. These were his, very own, bloody wings. The sight of these unwanted limbs in the full celestial glory, shining with the glamour of the Heaven lost for him, shattered his optimism into small pieces.

Always manipulated. Always a toy in the hands of his Father. Always played up, like a puppet on strings. Yes, these wings, so glorious, were no more than strings, attached to him limbs, kept by the Great Puppeteer, trying to steer him.

Chloe Decker was no more than a string with the same purpose. Brave and beautiful and oh, so alluring – but just a string.

He didn’t go to the precinct only spent the next days on painful and futile trials of getting rid of his wings.

It hurt. And the devil is not a soft-hearted creature. His hurt quickly turns into anger.

* * *

The devil does not long and has no regrets. He lives his old life, the one he had before ‘the detective’s era’, enjoying the delights offered by his beloved Lux and the eager, worshipping bodies of humans seeking to discover and sate their desires. And if it all does not enjoy him as before, it is nothing more than the passing decline of mood.

The days pass and Lucifer remains unchanged and uninfluenced, just as he wanted.

And everything tastes plain, like water.

* * *

The change came one evening, in the shape of well-build, even if slightly clumsy, Daniel Espinoza. The detective entered the Lux relatively early for a visit in the night club. It was obvious, that he came straight from the precinct. His clothes were dusty and creased after the whole day and he looked around with uncertainty, evidently feeling awkward in the sleek surrounding.

It was embarrassing, how happy Lucifer felt seeing the character form his LAPD past.

 _Detective Douche,_ he whispered almost tenderly and immediately strode toward his guest, to spare him further awkwardness. He welcomed him cordially, hiding under the mask of usual bravado the troubling feeling, that was so close to longing.

“Detective Douche! Well, hello,” he exclaimed with a flourish. “Long time no see!”

“Hi,” Daniel greeted him with a nod “How are you doing? Not missing us, I suppose.”

“Of course, I miss you all,” replied Lucifer, because he never lied, but adorned the reply with a flashing grin and, to put his answer in the specific context, added mockingly: “even the snacks from your vending machine or this terrible coffee. In fact, if I were to choose, what I miss more, the snacks, or the coffee, I would be in a quandary.”

“Riight,” Daniel smirked. “Do you… um… have a moment? There is something I’d like to talk with you about.”

They sat behind by the counter and the barman took an order from Dan. For Lucifer it was always the usual, all the staff in the Lux knew that. Dan took his beer, and continued to speak, with each word losing the remains of his confidence.

“Look, I know you are living your normal life again and do not work for us anymore, but, there is something…”

Lucifer took the time to observe his guest. He noted the small wrinkles around Dan’s red-rimmed eyes, greyish complexion, a sign of sleep deprivation, and small, nervous movements of his fingers over the bar counter… The last days, perhaps even weeks must have not been easy for the Douche. Lucifer knew, that after Palmetto reveal, he was a pushover for the whole precinct, going through the sort of internal purgatory, but he was bearing it with patience. Something else must have happened.

“Something happened and I think I need your help,” said Dan, confirming his suspicions. “Or, more precisely, Chloe needs your help.”

Lucifer froze, the glass with his drink halfway to his mouth. Hearing Chloe’s name was like an electric shock _. I didn’t get over her yet_ , realized Lucifer _if even mentioning her name takes my breath away._ Acknowledging his weakness made him, as usual, withdraw behind his walls.

His overfriendly mood darkened.

“If the detective needs my help,” he asked, “why isn’t she here?”

“I do not think that Chloe is aware of the scope of her… predicament,” sighed Dan, of course, as usual, unaware of the turmoil in Lucifer’s soul. “You know, there have been some internal… problems… with the evidence and paperwork…”

“Daniel,” Lucifer interrupted him with a snort, “are you seriously asking me to help the detective with the paperwork? I never did that, even when she asked. Why should I do it now, when she is apparently unaware of the fact you are here and most certainly wouldn’t welcome my assistance?”

Some tone, that he would perhaps prefer to keep hidden, something unpleasant and even aggressive, sounded in his question and for a moment Dan watched him confused.

“I think that someone is framing her.”

“The last time someone was framing her, it was you, Daniel.”

“I was never… framing her!” called Dan, jumping at his seat, when Lucifer’s words reached him. “What’s gotten into you, pal? I wouldn’t have come to you if I tried to harm her.”

No, he wouldn’t, Lucifer knew already so much. Daniel was like an open book, he could read his intentions by the same timbre of his voice. Now, apart from indignation, he noticed slight anxiety appearing in the detective’s mind. Some part of him regretted having come here. Probably, Lucifer spoke a bit too sharp, not very much in the style of the light-hearted joker he used to be at the precinct.

This… inconsistency must have troubled Dan, as he shook his head and muttered, obviously trying to find a credible explanation to something he didn’t understand: “The marriage does not serve you.”

“What marriage?” Lucifer blinked, thrown off-balance.

“What do you mean ‘what marriage’? With this exotic…” Dan swirled his hands around his head, probably trying to imitate Candy’s tresses. “Was there another one?”

“No,” Lucifer shook his head, surprised that Dan still remembered Candy. It was more than a month ago! She was long gone! Ah, but probably no one at the precinct heard about it. After all, he left LAPD before ‘the divorce. “Never mind that, do tell what happened.”

Daniel hesitated, his trust in Lucifer a bit undermined. To help his decision, Lucifer leant toward him, catching his sight and encouraged him, slightly, just very, very slightly, persuading:

“Spill out, Dan. After all, you came here to tell me. All of it.”

“The… piece of evidence is missing,” replied slowly Dan. “And in the register, there was Chloe’s signature, as the last one who had access. Actually, that’s not that strange, you know, evidence got lost from time to time and there is always a mess in the papers,” he smirked, with certain self-irony, and spoke further, more freely. “And it was nothing big. So, no one would blame her too much. In the worst case, she could receive a reprimand.”

“However?...”

“However, she wasn’t sure that it was her signature. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t say it was falsified. She simply wasn’t sure.”

Lucifer furrowed his eyebrows. The thing that was missing wasn’t important and the detective herself wasn’t entirely sure whether she didn’t, in fact, take it. And yet Dan the Douche decided to visit him, the first time in weeks, and was sitting here, all troubled…

“There is something else, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. The fact, that it came out,” replied Dan immediately. “You know, it was from the closed case. No one should check this particular evidence. Theoretically, it is possible, but still… Do you know what I mean? That’s… quite fishy. Look, Chloe ignores it, but I am worried.”

Worried? It was something more than that. “You are feeling guilty.”

“Right. Perhaps I would like to make up her for… you know,” Dan rubbed his face with a weary gesture. Lucifer thought this man was specialized with making bad choices and then tormenting himself with contemplating them. He basically wouldn’t need a Hell to create a loop for him he would build it himself. With a frown, Lucifer realized he wouldn’t like to see the Douche in Hell. Perhaps he should stay in contact, in case Detective Espinoza would start spiralling down. After all, he knew a few tricks that could help push the soul in the right direction. Through the ages, the King of Hell had a few protégés, whom he did the same service.

Consequently, losing them forever.

“I thought that you could return to the precinct and pretend that you are… consulting me. I would find some suitable case, something with cars, or hookers,” continued Dan in blissful unawareness of the fact that the future of his immortal soul in being considered. “Something, that would explain your presence. And that would be undercover allowing us to learn, what is going on in the precinct. I know that if someone is lying. You would be able to learn the truth,” he finished and looked at Lucifer expectantly.

 _Yes, yes, yes!…_ What a wonderful occasion, to get back what he missed, without having to ask for it. He was the one being asked. He was summoned. He would be solving crime-riddles again. And, he would see her… The exhilaration he felt could be compared perhaps only to the joy of flying at dawn over the seashore.

 _Flying_. Lucifer frowned, suddenly. Damn wings, that wouldn’t go away. Damn sentiments he couldn’t get rid of. No, he was not going step into the trap so easily.

“The problem is, Daniel,” he said coldly, “that, unlike you, I do not have everything to make up for to your ex-wife.”

Dan blinked. “Are you kidding? You fucking broke her heart.”

Poor, simple-minded Douche. He had no idea how dangerous it was to tease the Devil in his lair. Perhaps, he would have learnt it on this occasion, had it not been for the flashback of the troubled voice of sweet Miss Lopez during one of her phone calls. _Luce, why aren’t you coming to visit us? We miss you. Just… perhaps without Candy? Your… wife is sweet, really. But you know, Chloe… it is just that… I know it is perhaps not your fault, but, man, you so totally broke her heart!..._

He didn’t break her heart. He saved her and her freedom of choice.

He sacrificed himself for her.

Though, perhaps, by human’s standards, with their limited perception, it might have looked a bit different.

The devil does not feel guilty, so it wasn’t the guilt, what he felt, but still, he felt something that made him make his decision.

“I can do, what you want, Daniel,” he stated evenly. “However, if detective Decker needs my help, she needs to come and ask me for it. Not that I am making it difficult, I will help, if she wants it,” he added quickly seeing how Dan bridled. “However, as you may have noticed, Dan, we didn’t part in the best air. I must be sure that she accepts for my interference in her affairs.”

“Okay. That sounds fair enough,” nodded Dan, even if he looked quite disappointed and voice it, adding: “I do not think that she would come. Told you that… she is not treating it seriously.”

 _She would come._ Lucifer was certain of it. And the moment he said ‘I will help, if she wants it’, he felt the streams of destiny, that so far remained static, swirling around him, changing, waving, like exited snakes…

He has just thrown a stone into the water, and the waves were spreading, wider and wider.


	2. The deal with the detective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, there is no Pierce in my story. Not that I have anything against him, in fact, I like him. He had nice arms and in the third season only he behaved like an reasonable adult with a plan - at least until the rest of the team rub off on him, and he started to change his mind every ten minutes... So, Pierce was cool. However, he didn’t fit into my scenario. So, there is a new Lieutenant, because Monroe made her promised career, but it is not Pierce.

The worst hits come unexpected, Chloe Decker experienced it many times in her life. The biggest problems where not the ones she foresaw and feared, only the ones that struck out of the blue. For example, for a long time she feared that if she and Lucifer would become romantically involved, he would, sooner or later, betray her with one of the bimbos that swarmed at Lux. Or that their relationship would have no future because he was not the one to make long-term commitments. Instead, he managed to surprise her by making the said commitment with one of the said bimbos, even before they managed to consummate their budding romantic relationship.

Actually, there was nothing surprising in him marrying the stripper. Exotic dancer. Whatever. He was just such kind of man: drunk Vegas wedding and crazy photos all over the media. The problem was that a moment before, he tried to date her, he kissed her, he made her feel… important… and then ditched her without a word.

It was just as if he tried and decided she was not good enough.

Probably, at that beach he was trying to tell her kindly to sod off… only that she didn’t catch it. And he kissed her only to be polite. Actually, it was even more like her kissing him, so…

And all this after weeks of intense flirting. Damn, what was wrong with her? What scared him away? After all, she was rather attractive. Since her divorce, quite a few men tried to date her. Chloe has never complained at the lack of interest. And besides, when they interviewed Lucifer’s exes, she noticed that… well, many of them were stunning, but not all. Some were just average. And it was not like he had a type.

So, it was something in her character, that he found… repellent.

And she gave him… the best of her feelings. Whatever affections she had for him, they were grown on her compassion, after he saw in him in the moments of his worst anguish, on the acceptance of his worst features… Loving him strengthened the best in her. She was never more selfless and caring than with him.

And it was not enough. Somehow, it was wrong. He tried it, and escaped.

She was not good enough.

Chloe spent weeks dwelling on such thoughts, the pain and disappointment not fading with time, until she received another proof, that the worst problems hit out of the blue and usually people do not notice the storm gathering around them after the first rumble. When Lieutenant Watts, their new boss after Monroe moved to the more spectacular career, approached her with a register book and a simple question: “Is that your signature?”, Chloe barely paid attention.

“Looks like it,” she replied with distraction. “Why? What is it? Evidence register?”

“That piece of evidence is missing. Did you, perhaps, misplaced it?”

“I hope not,” replied Chloe with slight stutter, because, honestly, in her present state of mind, she might have made some mess. “What is missing?”

“Two cocaine bags from Warren case. The evidence from the shooter’s pockets.”

“That was not my case,” Chloe shook her head, slightly relieved, because she was certain that she didn’t check the evidence from this particular case. “I didn’t took it. Perhaps I put my signature in the wrong line.”

“Explain it, ok?” said the Lieutenant only and left.

“Of course,” replied Chloe, still not very interested. She had no idea that this question and the small signature she was looking at are beginning the affair of the wide range and consequences excessing her imagination.

She tried to explain it, but she couldn’t find a clue, how the mistake was made. After all, there was only a limited number of errors that could be made in the documentation. Finally, she started to believe, that perhaps she did something stupid, without paying attention, mistook the boxes, or the cases… In the meantime, Dan and Ella noticed the situation and tried to help her. Sometimes, she preferred they didn’t, because they kept talking about Lucifer: that if Lucifer was still with them, it would be blamed on him, because he used to treat the evidence room as his private supply store. And that no one would mind that, because he was always so charming, that he got away with everything. But he wouldn’t forged the signature, because he never lied. He would probably leave some dirty drawing in the register. Or that cute devil emoji. And, generally, it is such a pity that he was no longer at the precinct, because everything would be simpler and merrier.

“He didn’t have to leave,” Chloe finally blurted out, brought to her limits by their gushing over her former partner.

Dan and Ella looked at her with surprise and yes, slight accusation in their eyes.

“He didn’t have to leave, okay?” muttered Chloe. “I know what I said but he didn’t have to listen. I cannot… fire him. That’s beyond my competencies, he must have known it.”

“Yeah, but, you know, perhaps after what happened he didn’t want to work with you anymore,” explained Dan, helpfully.

“Yeah, exactly, something like this,” snorted Chloe. “You know what? Leave it. I don’t care. Perhaps I really mistook the boxes and took the one not from my cases… and lost somehow these two damn bags… I will try to explain it. No big deal, anyway.”

She lost too much time on this petty nuisance anyway. She only regretted, that it happened exactly when there was a change in her superior’s position. The new boss was perhaps going to think that she was a messy, unreliable person… or even worse, that she sniffed it herself… definitely not the best first impression.

* * *

Some problems, when ignored, dissolve. The others, grow and strike again. A few days later Chloe had another conversation with the Lieutenant. This one was led in his office, behind the closed door. When she exited, it took Dan one look at her face to lead her outside, at the parking lot, where they could talk freely.

“Do you have cigarettes? I feel like smoking,” muttered Chloe, though she didn’t smoke since the year she got pregnant.

“What happened?”

“Something else is missing…. From the evidence room,” the detective said through clenched teeth, “With my signature again.” She silenced for a moment, nervously biting her lips. Finally, she added: “One pound of cocaine.”

Dan inhaled sharply. “Someone is framing you.”

“I know.”

Chloe clearly saw the scheme around her. Someone was making it look like as if she was selling the drugs stolen from evidence. First the small amounts, then more… She was certain, that soon new ‘discoveries’ were to come out to the daylight.

The detective would never thought that she would miss Monroe – but now she did. The former Lieutenant could be a real bitch sometimes but at least they had worked together since years. Monroe knew Chloe. She would give her… the benefit of doubts. The new Lieutenant… appeared understanding, but the detective felt his distance. He listened to her explanations, but didn’t accept them, not fully.

Perhaps, on his place, she would behave in the same way toward unknown person in ambiguous situation. However, now it hurt.

“I am so sorry, Chloe,” said Dan earnestly. “I know, what you feel.”

“There is a difference,” muttered Chloe and regretted it immediately. Was she going to discourage every friendly person around her? “I am sorry. That was unnecessary.”

“No, you are right,” sighed Dan. “I was guilty and you did nothing wrong.”

“Thank you,” Chloe looked at him with gratitude, for believing in her so unconditionally. “I think I am going to ask for the internal investigation. The sooner it starts, the better.” She could only hope that whoever was framing her, wasn’t smarter than the officers that would lead the investigation. It was terrible feeling – to put her fate in the hands of the others – but…

“Lucifer could really help here,” observed Dan quietly. “He was good at getting to the truth.”

“Well, yes, pity that he is not around anymore,” replied Chloe a bit too violently.

“He could come back for a moment. He could return to the precinct for a while under some pretext… like, let’s say, pretending, that he is consulting my case… and, you know, do his thing. ‘Tell me your desires’ and all. He would speak with a few people and found out who was behind it in a day or two.”

“You must have thought about it,” Chloe looked at her ex-husband with amusement that faded at the new realization. “You have already talked with him about it!”

“Well, yes, I…”

“But how could you? Without asking me first?”

“Chloe, be serious,” Dan he interrupted her. “This is not a joking matter. Your whole future is at stake. And not only yours, Trixie’s too. It is enough that I am a failure,” he added bitterly.

The detective wanted to object, but the words got strangled in her throat. Dan’s situation at work wasn’t… good, and Trixie felt it. He usually had to work till the late hours, rarely got the vacation in the convenient terms… His salary was cut down. Trixie’s maintenance depended now mostly from Chloe. If she… failed her… in case of her professional problems… Trixie would directly suffer from the consequences.

“Chloe, you may be expelled or even arrested, if the thing go awry. Do you want to put Trixie through it? What’s wrong with asking Lucifer for help? He is made for solving cases like such. And he agreed to help,” added Dan, probably feeling that Chloe’s refusal is weakening. “Lucifer only wants to be sure that you accept his involvement. Go to Lux tonight, talk with him. I will take care about the cover and ask the Lieutenant about engaging him in one of my cases.”

Chloe hesitated. She was usually the pragmatist, she wouldn’t mind asking Lucifer for help, even it required swallowing a bit of her pride after she had told him previously that she does not need him. However, taking into account all the possible consequences of her situation, she would do it. Only that… well, yes. Something in her was reluctant to meet him again.

She saw him once, during these weeks. She was at the hospital, interviewing the victim of the shooting, when one of the uni’s told her, that Charlotte Richards was brought to the ER, unconscious. She went to check on her, to let Dan know what happened… and froze, seeing in the waiting room Lucifer and Amenadiel, sitting together, in silence. She watched them from a distance, not daring to come closer, and if she had to guess their mood, she would say there were exhausted and even somehow shaken. And then someone came asking them to make a statement for the police, because apparently they brought Charlotte and when a leading lawyer from the shady law firm is found unconscious, some questions are bound to arise. The brothers exchanged glances and Lucifer stood up, his face schooling in his usual, confident expression, as he prepared himself to use his charm and make a statement that would smooth the things over.

A bit later she learnt that Charlotte suffered at some kind of passing memory loss, but it was classified as accident.

That was the last time she saw her former partner.

Chloe more or less accepted that Lucifer’s stage in her life came to an end and hoped, that with time she would came to terms with this… rejection. If she saw him again it would… hurt.

Still, she had to be responsible woman. Act rationally, not emotionally.

“Okay,” she said, taking her breath. “I will talk with him. You said he didn’t mind returning to the precinct for a while?”

“He owes you that,” replied Dan with a shrug.

“He owes me nothing,” snapped Chloe violently. Dan words were almost humiliating. “But I… I can ask him,” she stuttered, struck by a sudden idea. She could make a deal with Lucifer. Wasn’t that how he operated? He would keep his end of a deal and her problems would be solved. _That would be just business. Nothing personal._

And yet, she wondered fleeting what he would want to get from the deal. What if he would like to return to the precinct… and work with her again?... Very bad idea, because, well, it would hurt… but, to be honest, she missed him. She would never admit it openly, because the woman must have at least some pride left, but… if this would be his end of the deal… she would accept it. 

* * *

Lucifer didn’t have the gift of clairvoyance, but he had these… hunches that were always right. When, standing on the gallery at Lux, watching the dancing crowd, he felt suddenly the rapid tension in the air around him, almost like a gentle touch on his neck, he was certain, that Chloe Decker entered his club. With a smirk, he wrapped his fingers around the railing, pressing the thumb to the sharply ended décor.

It hurt.

For a moment, he relished at the sensation of finally feeling something and then turned slowly toward the entrance, spotting the far too familiar figure, nearing to the bar.

_The detective._

Lucifer took his time observing the details of her appearance. The detective was wearing some very casual clothes, perhaps too causal, even for work. However, her blouse, though worn out, was in lovely shade of green, that underlined the color of her eyes. She told her this, once or twice. Her choice of clothes spoke: I am not dressing up for you, but I still look good.

So, in other words, she still cared.

She was also nervous. Her hair were pulled back, so tightly, that it must have hurt - Heaven forbid she would grant him a small joy of watching them falling free... She used to wear her hair confined in the tight ponytail when she was feeling insecure. Like a helmet, helping her to pretend that she was stronger than she felt.

Somehow, watching her appearance wasn’t enough.

The devil wanted – he needed to see more and, led by impulse, he did something, he didn’t do since Hell: allowed himself to use the ability of reading humans souls, looking straight into their deepest corners, foregoing the external shell.

The souls of the people gathered in Lux burnt with passions, indulgence and weaknesses, some of them perhaps a bit too dark, unsettling even... While in Hell, he would pay attention, but now he was retired. Let the small sins grow and bloom, until they bear fruit to be harvested… by someone else.

On this background, the soul of Chloe Decker shined like a star. Strong, good, virtuous. One in a thousand. She was a kind of a woman who runs without hesitation into the fire to save a stranger. Or that stays by the side of the crippled husband, supporting him, even if she could find another, satisfying her desires (which, bit the way, brought the question, how the Douche must have fucked up the things, if she left him). Patient, selfless, ready for sacrifices. Brave. Such like her change the fate of the world. Stand at the front of the demonstrations, organize the resistance. Die at scaffolds, because they were too loud, too ahead of their times.

He rarely saw such souls in Hell, because they are strong enough even to accept their failures, not letting the defeat crush them.

It almost seemed strange why wasn’t she doing anything more… significant in her life, other than proving, that former actresses can be good cops. Souls like her usually were destined to something more, had some…bigger calling.

 _But of course, she has a bigger calling,_ snorted Lucifer, with bitter self-irony. _I am her calling. Her destiny is to… tame the devil._

And didn’t she succeeded? Hadn’t he done for her something, he swore never to do and hadn’t done in millennia? To ensure her safety, he has been begging the Father. He crunched his pride for her - and, after all, his pride was proverbial.

He, the Adversary. Lying helpless in the pool of his blood, sniveling like a little boy and promising the repentance.

Pitiful, humiliating. Disgusting.

Lucifer heard a sudden crack and noticed with surprise the chipped piece of the railing in his hand that fell victim of his rising temper. He sighed heavily, examining the damaged railing. Just great, a bent steel, so difficult to mend.

He should tell the detective to leave that would be probably the best for everyone involved. That what the whole Candy affair was about. He could tell her he was busy, had no time. Whatever, she wouldn’t insist. Anything, to keep the distance between them. However, he said to the Douche that he would help. It was basically a promise it and if there was one thing firm and constant in his life, it was his word.

The devil took deep breath and walked down to the bar, where the detective was just been asking about his whereabouts.

“Welcome, Detective,” he said, struggling to sound casual. Noticing that he was still keeping the piece of railing, he put it away at the counter, causing a moment of awkward silence. Luckily, the bartender took it without any comment and left to stuck somewhere.

“Lucifer. Hi,” Chloe turned to him with unsure, a bit forced smile. So familiar and so unique. The only splotch of color in the world of black and white.

He didn’t want to keep the distance.

He wanted her.

In every possible way.

“Fine. I am fine,” he replied and fleetingly wondered, whether this was not a lie. He wanted her so much that it was painful. “Something to drink?”

“Just water.”

Lucifer stepped behind the counter in such confusion that, after filling her glass, he poured the water also for himself.

After raising the glass to his mouth, he realized that water, actually, has a taste.

He wanted her to stay. He needed her to go. She was a Miracle of his Father and he couldn’t let her stay around him, but he couldn’t also let her leave... His heart beat faster and the rush of blood in his ears was getting louder and he was on the verge of doing something stupid and violent…

A promise. He told the Douche that he would help her.

“I heard from your ex that you are in some kind of troubles, Detective?” he asked, as lightly as he could.

“Yes. It would seem that I am. It does not look good,” she hesitated and then looked at him, with a slight smile: “Well, say it. You can say it.” When he didn’t reply, she rolled her eyes and said: “I need you.”

Ah, an olive branch. An easy way to return to their usual camaraderie, which, for him, would be the straightest way down the slippery slope.

“I wasn’t going to say anything like this,” he replied, rebuilding the distance.

The remains of the detective’s confidence faded. She corrected herself at the stool, looking uncomfortably at her hands, keeping the glass. “Okay. Sorry. Look, someone’s framing me and it looks serious. I am afraid. Dan said that… if you could help me, I would appreciate it.”

“Yes. Yes, I will, if you want it,” he replied with distraction. What these small humans’ schemes mattered? He could gladly find the culprit, punish him, put the incident into oblivion. The real problem lied somewhere else.

“Lucifer, I…” the detective hesitated, before continuing, “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to leave the precinct. That was not… in my place. I shouldn’t have mixed private… issues with professional life.”

“Oh, that’s fine, Detective,” he smirked, “I would never…” he meant to tell some joke. Something about being professional in private or searching private in professional… something with innuendo, that would make her roll her eyes and send him half scolding, half amused glance he missed so much…

“We are fine, Detective,” he corrected himself, to prevent the mood from getting too friendly. “We both took the right decision, you by asking me to leave and me by leaving.”

“Ah. All right then.” The detective nodded in equally formal manner. “Still I appreciate even more, that you are ready to help. Let’s make it a deal.”

Somehow, her words stung.

He didn’t want to make a deal with her. He wanted to give her everything she would like to, the moon and stars including.

For a moment, he regretted that he didn’t ask her to leave before they started talking.

“That’s not necessary,” he shook his head. “No deals between old friends.”

The detective shrugged her shoulders, looking strangely disappointed. “That’s much of an effort. It will take a lot of your time. Dan has a plan of reintroducing you at the precinct as his consultant. You would have to both help him in the official case and lead with me an… unofficial investigation to discover who is trying to frame me. I think that making it a deal would be… fair. I know you have your life now. How’s the new stabilization, by the way?” she asked, suddenly unsure. At his confused sight, she cleared her throat and précised: “Candy?...”

“Oh, Candy, no. We split up long ago.”

Chloe’s face rapidly changed. For a moment it almost lit with… relief? Smile? But all too soon, she frowned. “Long ago? But you married her when - two months ago? So how long your marriage… lasted?”

“Two weeks perhaps,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps less.”

Chloe stared at him for a while, the warmth disappearing from her expression, until her eyes became cold and hard, like the aquamarines in the Sheba’s crown.

“Well, that’s so much like you,” she commented sharply.

And Lucifer felt his anger rising because, Hell, he ripped his hear out and trampled it, for her. He did it to set her free. How did she now dare to judge him? What did she know about him and his motives? And even if he acted a bit too recklessly… during these lonely weeks after leaving the precinct, he asked once doctor Linda: ‘If you love someone, shouldn’t you forgive him a mistake?’ The good doctor confirmed without hesitation. ‘We all make mistakes and to love means to forgive,’ she said. She thought probably that he meant himself forgiving… someone. However, he was speaking about the detective forgiving him.

But, of course, his Father’s bloody Miracle, all righteous and just, couldn’t forgive him.

“You know what? That’s even worse,” continued Chloe, her voice trembling, all the pretenses of being official and oblivious lost, “I thought you found someone… someone who suited you better. Someone with whom you… felt better. And that was what, no more than a whim? You have… thrown everything between us for something that… wasn’t even real?”

“Bloody Hell,” was all that Lucifer managed to whisper, hearing his own words, twisted by her. Though she was right. Nothing was real in his life. Everything was a kind of…game.

“We are not old friends. We are… nothing. I want to make a deal,” stated the detective angrily.

“Fine,” he growled and, barely able to hear hearing himself though the rush of the blood in his ears, recited, out of custom making his words sound negligent and dismissive: “But I cannot think of anything I would like to get from you at the moment. You would need to give me a blank check.”

“Very well,” replied Chloe Decker, swallowing back tears, so hurt that she barely paid attention. “I owe you.” She stood up abruptly, intending to leave, but then hesitated and took deep breath, trying to calm herself: “I am sorry, I didn’t want this conversation to end like this. I appreciate that you are willing to help, I know that you could refuse.”

 _Could I?_ though Lucifer, forcing a tight smile on his lips. Somehow he felt as if he was the one maneuvered into the trap.

* * *

That feeling didn’t left him even much later, when he was standing at the balcony in his apartment, trying to thing over the situation.

What on earth had he done? On Earth, on Hell below and Heaven above, because apparently all three planes were entangled in the web of intrigues around him.

Lucifer shook his head and snorted with self-irony, staring at the night’s sky. He had gone to such extent to avoid being… manipulated. He cut his wings off and the memory of this pain still gave him creeps. He betrayed the trust Chloe Decker put in him, warding her off with the mockery of marriage. He opened the rift between worlds and sent his Mother into the void of no return.

He threw away the Flaming Sword.

Lucifer cringed, dizzy with the very same memory of the temptation he felt keeping The Sword, burning the steady, strong flame in his hand.

He was invincible, holding it. He could rewrite the history and change the course of destiny of all three planes of existence. And he threw it away, because he didn’t want to be nobody’s puppet, not even of his own past and vengeance.

And now, despite his will and intent, he made a deal that pushed him deeper into his Father’s trap, just because the mortal woman asked him to. The deal that forced him to spent more and more time with her, so that he would keep on wanting her, more and more…

For a moment, the devil searched for a loophole, giving him a way out. If Chloe Decker had asked him for securing her job, or for ensuring her material stabilization, he could do it with few phone calls and some checks and never see her again. But, Bloody Hell, she was so… precise. She didn’t want wealth, she wanted the truth, and she was very thorough describing how he was going to discover it. ‘ _A plan of reintroducing you at the precinct as his consultant... You would help Dan in the official case and lead with me an… unofficial investigation to discover who is trying to frame me…_ ’

He would have to do it.

 _Congratulations, Father, your Miracle is clever,_ he muttered toward the sky, imagining the torture of returning to the precinct and watching the detective over and over again. How was he going to keep the distance between them, if everything in him yearned to get close to her, to joke and laugh with her, to rebuild their friendship and to get kissed by her once again?...

Keeping his end of the deal meant nothing more than walking straight into the trap he struggled so hard to avoid. And yet, he had no choice.

He was… cornered.

Actually, it is rather dangerous to corner the devil. Given no way out, he can get stupid ideas.

Lucifer, looking at the dark, starless sky over the City of Angel, thought he could gamble.

He could gamble with his Father and win… Chloe from the Father’s influence. True, she was His Miracle, but this didn’t meant he couldn’t… steal her.

It wouldn’t be the first time when he and Father would have a little… game where the life of the human would be involved. They both had a weak spot for this intriguing mortals. Sometimes… sometimes they used it against each other. Lucifer grimaced, recalling that the celestial schemes usually didn’t end well for humans, even if some of them got they eternal reward in the Silver City at the end. But, of course, he would never hurt Chloe. He would do his best to ensure her well-being both at this world and on the other.

He would only help her to get rid of that part of her life that was a lie.

Of course it meant that some part of her life would need to be destroyed. Still, that would be the part that was not her own, anyway. The beliefs, the convictions, the rules, that were imprinted into her conscience, not chosen. He would set her free, allow her to use her free will.

Some quiet voice deep inside him whispered, that he already did that, once, in the Garden, with the same excuse… and it didn’t end well, for anyone… but he pushed it aside. He reveled in his mistakes, not learnt from them.

Of course that would require changing his approach toward… the detective. Instead of running from her, he would need to spend with her as much time as possible, to get her know even better than she knew herself. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. It sounded as good as some of Linda’s advice. Why didn’t he thought about it earlier? That would be so much better than his crazy escape to Vegas…

Yes, he didn’t want to start this game, but when forced to play, he could still win it.

For the first time this evening Lucifer smiled toward the sky, with a sly smile, worthy of the Goddess who created him. 


	3. The boxing ring

Chloe expected to feel at least awkward in Lucifer's presence, especially after their almost-quarrel in the Lux. Her former partner was to appear at the precinct on Monday and Chloe's reluctance grew, the closer it was to the date of his return. Finally, on Monday morning, she was nervous like in the day of the exam, wasting more time than usual to choose the clothes – something she would look good at, but still comfortable enough to guarantee her at least a bit of confidence.

However, she should have already got used to fact that the worse hits come unexpectedly. After arriving to work she forgot about Lucifer when she was asked to take the drug test.

Theoretically, there should be nothing strange in it. The mandatory baseline drug screening was done from time to time, sometimes for all the employees, sometimes for a part of them, chosen randomly. Chloe took the tests a few times in her life and never made a fuss about it. And yet today it was different. She felt that she was not chosen randomly and the tests might be a part of some investigation against her, an investigation she was not informed about.

The lack of trust hurt. The test itself felt like a too personal violation. The uncertainty, what else could be investigated, made her feel insecure.

 _Don't I deserve better, after all these years of work?_ She thought bitterly, knowing well that if there were solid proofs against her, no one would take it into account. And if the person framing her made a good job, fabricating the evidence? She should probably prepare herself for a hard time at work… again.

At least after Palmetto everyone at the precinct was hating her openly. Now it was just so… quiet around her.

As a result, she barely noticed Lucifer's appearance. Only when the joyous commotion around Dan's desk became increasingly loud, Chloe peeked from behind her computer to see the familiar figure in the impeccable suit. Half of the precinct's employees crowded around him, chatting and laughing. Lucifer must have brought some sweets and someone was making coffee, the welcome developing into a spontaneous little party. It seemed that everyone missed him – the detectives, unis, clerks, cleaning staff… even the lieutenant, who never met him before, left the stronghold of his office and after a short welcome, stayed in the group, as the formal conversation turned into the friendly chat.

And Lucifer, in the middle of this little crowd of his fans, looked like the proverbial fish in the water.

 _It only lacks that he would start to sing,_ thought Chloe a bit bitingly, because, let's be honest, for a moment she envied him.

Lucifer's life was one big party. He was his own boss and he didn't have to worry about his daughter's college fund. No one forced him to take humiliating tests, because he was always high and no one minded it. And everyone liked him, just because he was loud and brash and told a lot of sex jokes, even if most of them weren't even funny.

 _Exactly my opposite,_ concluded bitterly Chloe.

Then, however, with a wave of shame she recalled the anguish on Lucifer's face when he was yelling at the sniper to shot him – the picture that would haunt her till the end of her life. The day when she called him a homeless magician but in his eyes was so deep despair, that it scared her, forcing to resort to some mocking remark.

The scars on his back.

No, Lucifer also got his share of misery. It was good, that he still knew how to laugh, instead of becoming bitter.

She shouldn't become bitter as well.

So, she stood up, forced a smile and neared to Dan's desk.

"Hi, Lucifer. Nice to see you back," she said sincerely.

"Detective!..." exclaimed Lucifer with a wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It sounded like a beginning to one of Lucifer's tirades and Chloe braced herself for hearing a mocking joke, or some innuendo, but to her surprise, nothing like that followed. Lucifer silenced, a bit abruptly, his flair suddenly put out. People around him stopped talking, obviously remembering that Chloe was the one who asked him to leave. After an awkward moment, Lucifer handed her a small paper bag.

Coffee and cake, the same he used to buy her when they were working together.

A peace offering, if there even was one.

"I hope you didn't change your preferences, Detective, your coffee order is already ridiculously long."

"Thank you," Chloe smiled, for the first time today feeling slightly better. _Low-fat milk latte with sugar-free caramel drizzle_. And he remembered.

The conversation around them returned to the previous level, people crowding around Lucifer, laughing, asking questions. Chloe retreated toward Dan, who was standing aside.

"I heard about the tests," he muttered. "I do not think it was random."

"Neither do I," replied quietly Chloe. After a moment she added, struggling with a clenched throat: "I didn't get a new case since a week."

Dan knew, what it meant. "I am sorry," he sighed. "We will get you out of it, I promise."

"Thank you… for bringing him," nodded Chloe, with a slight movement of her head pointing at Lucifer and walked back to her desk.

She wasn't alone. She had Dan, Ella and now Lucifer helping her. Together, they would learn the truth. Lucifer was obviously doing his part already, because he kept on talking with everyone, from the detectives to the cleaning staff, as if he was going to catch up on all the gossips he missed during his absence. Unless he was starving for social contacts – rather unlikely by the owner of the night club – he was fishing for information.

Chloe, on her side, started with the meticulous analysis of her older cases, wondering, who could be after her. She made a list of cases, taking notes of culprits, who were convicted, checking the length of their sentences, trying to recall the ones, who threatened her personally during the investigation. And it had to be someone with connections wide enough to reach the precinct. A mob perhaps?

And, still, while working, she felt there was something wrong in all this.

Around noon, Chloe's list was ready, but she didn't found an obvious suspect. She took part in a few investigations against the organized crime, and sometimes it became very nasty, but all the culprits got long sentences. It was unlikely that anyone would manage to organize such an elaborate scheme inside the precinct from jail.

Perhaps it was an internal job.

Struck by this thought, Chloe froze, her insides clenching. Perhaps she was wrong, searching for the perpetrator in her old cases. Perhaps it was not a criminal, only someone from the precincts, one of her colleagues, working at the neighbouring desk.

_One of Malcolm's old buddies._

They all supported him against her during Palmetto. Perhaps some still believed him to be a good guy? When Malcolm kidnapped Trixie, and she shot him, except Lucifer, there were no other witnesses in this hangar. Perhaps someone thought that Malcolm was the wronged one and wanted to revenge him. Someone who should keep her back, but instead decided to stab her in it.

Chloe suddenly felt the wave of nausea, all her insecurities, all her deep hidden rancour resurfacing. She pretended it was fine, after Palmetto, she accepted a few apologies and some congratulations and pretended, that she was a member of a team, but somewhere deep in her this shadow of a doubt, this painful memory remained…

Her best friend at the precinct became Ella Lopez, the new one, who wasn't here during Palmetto. Chloe never got really close with anyone from the old team.

Discouraged, she closed the file with her list and started to work on her due reports. The harder she struggled to concentrate, the more difficult it became to write sensible sentences. Suddenly, she felt this all had no sense. She always tried to do her best. Be thorough, be reliable. Was there any sense in trying so hard, if her position, build since so many years, was so easy to undermine?

What was wrong with her, that she moved from one failure to another?...

"All right, Detective, let's get out of here."

Chloe blinked, surprised by the tall figure leaning over her desk.

"Lunch. It is lunchtime, let's go eat something," said Lucifer, exuding his usual energy.

"I am not hungry. I don't feel like eating anyway," protested Chloe, but had to stand up, because Lucifer already pulled her chair from the desk and it looked as if he was going to wheel her out of the precinct if she didn't.

"Perhaps, but if you instead feel like crying, it would be better to do outside, don't you think, Detective? Someone here is not fond of you, do not give him this satisfaction."

"I am not the crying type," retorted Chloe. "And I am not in the mood for lunch. However, I can use a small break to vent up a little," she reached to her locker, retrieving small sports bag with a change of clothes and shower utensils. She had it always prepared, just in case there would be an occasion for a bit of training. "You do not have to accompany me," she observed, seeing that Lucifer is following her to the stairs.

"No, no, I am intrigued. I must see where Detective Decker goes to soothe her nerves. I will give you a lift," offered Lucifer. Chloe wanted to protest, but she thought that perhaps he wanted to talk with her about something connected to her, something he perhaps already managed to learn during his very social morning at the precinct.

"Fine," she nodded. "But as for my place, I bet you will be disappointed."

The fitness club where Chloe used to visit when she wanted to work out some stress was a small gym near the precinct. She preferred this place from the police training facilities because there she wouldn't meet anyone from work. In the worst moment, she instead of talking about the work, she preferred to be alone, just her and a bit of sport, the exertion allowing her to forget the troubles.

Lucifer during their way there kept silent and when they reached the destination followed her looking around with curiosity and bit of disgust. Certainly, it wasn't his type of place. If he ever visited gyms, there were certainly more luxurious places, the ones with private instructors and flawless air-conditioning.

Chloe's gym was friendly and cheap, but, well, a little smelly and most of the equipment, even if clean, was rather old.

"Why don't you go and eat now? Meet me here in half an hour," she proposed, seeing that Lucifer wasn't going to start the conversation about anything he learnt at the precinct.

"No, I will wait," he replied, appearing absent-minded as if his thoughts were wandering somewhere far away.

Chloe shrugged her shoulders and went to change. When she returned, Lucifer was still there sticking like a sore thumb in his designer suit against the scrappy equipment. However, he beamed at her sight, suddenly giving up his distracted mood.

"Now I am definitely going to stay."

"Why?" snarled Chloe, because, damn, if she was going to hear some leering comment about her tank top…

"Your hair," he pointed at her head. "You finally changed it."

Her tight ponytail disarranged when she was changing and she tied her hair into a much looser bun on her neck. A few stands escaped it, falling around her face, and Chloe tucked them behind her ears, suddenly very self-conscious at his warm gaze.

_A moment._

No, no, he didn't get to do this, look at her like this and flirt, as if nothing happened. Things had changed between them and he was the one who fucked it up. They were not fine. They were not okay.

She should tell him that.

"You do not like my usual hairdo?" she asked instead, her voice, despite her will, a bit lower and more hoarse than usual.

"The ponytail is awful," he replied and somehow he way he said it, made it sound like an intimate compliment.

"Well, thank you, that's so charming of you," she nodded. "You know, I was just going to spend a moment at the boxing ring, care to join me for a little match?" What the hell was she doing? Obviously flirting, instead of telling him off.

"A boxing match?" Lucifer raised his eyebrows. "You would like to break my nose, for all this, wouldn't you?..."

 _You have no idea,_ thought Chloe, but refrained herself from saying it aloud, because they both know they stopped talking about the hairdo, and it would be too much, too close… and she didn't want it, she didn't want to go through all it again. Still, she didn't move and neither did he, and the moment definitely continued when they just stood, looking at each other.

"I am in for a match if you are looking for a partner, Miss."

Chloe tilted hearing the new voice. The young, bulky man in sporting clothes, obviously the other guest using gym facilities, was looking at Chloe hopefully and it was clear that, given the chance, he would extend the match into the invitation for coffee or a drink.

"No, she is not, back off," snapped Lucifer with irritation, turning to him.

Chloe sighed, preparing for trouble, because, well, Lucifer was rude, and the guy hitting at her was twice wider in the shoulders. Surprisingly, after a short staring match, he backed off without arguing.

At least 'the moment' ended. Very well, because she was far too close to making the fool of herself. How did Lucifer phrase it at Lux? That he 'made a good decision by leaving'. Great. And she was almost gone again the first moment when he fancied a little flirt. Chloe was so grateful to the young muscleman for the interruption that she almost wanted to ask for his number.

"I can speak for myself, you know?" she snarled to Lucifer, glad, that his behaviour gave her the occasion to snap at him. "Now I'd like to do what I came here for before my break is over." Without looking back she entered the small boxing ring. Generally, she wasn't a fan of boxing but today, damn, she needed it. "I know you won't join me, so why don't you now go for your lunch?" she called to Lucifer. "Just don't tell me that you are interested in boxing. Other than taking part in some flashy boxing night galas."

"You would be surprised, Detective," Lucifer, unabashed by her hostility, followed her to the ring and replied with his usual smirk. "Haven't you ever heard that before I set Lux there were underground boxing fights in this building?"

"Really?" Chloe forgot her anger, indeed surprised and impressed, because she would never guess that he started his high-end club in such place. Though now, when he said it, she vaguely recalled that she heard about it… no, not only heard… "Ah, I have been there!" she called. "On the occasion of some investigation… Five or six years ago. Just before it was locked down. Well, you did change this place," she looked at him with approval, but… something changed. Lucifer didn't warm up at the compliment. On his face appeared again this distant, distracted expression.

"But of course," he said, suddenly with some awful, cold politeness. "We must have been stepping on our toes."

Chloe only shrugged at his sudden change of mood. It seemed a bit strange but she was done with attempts to decipher his humours. Instead, she concentrated on the exercise. After a short warm-up, she attacked the punch bag, enjoying this simple and direct venting of her stress. She loved physical activities. She loved feeling strong, and fit and…

And Lucifer's presence increasingly irritated her.

"Why don't you go eat something? I thought you were hungry," she asked impatiently.

He looked at her in a strange, distant manner, as if he didn't hear her at all, only was struggling to approach some difficult subject.

"Detective," he started seriously, "how long are you working for the LAPD?"

Chloe placed a casual punch to the bag. "About ten years, with a short break when Trixie was born. Why?"

"Quite a long time," observed Lucifer, his voice now smooth and soft. "I was just thinking that they should have… more trust in you."

Chloe froze for a moment, and then punched again, this time stronger. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it is pretty obvious that someone is framing you in the revenge for your previous actions conducted in the LAPD official capacities… Your superiors should be more… supportive."

He was right. Suddenly Chloe realized that it was this nagging feeling, the thing she felt that was wrong, but couldn't exactly put her finger on it. Now she got it. She shouldn't be left alone, with anything more than her own resources and the undercover help of a bunch of friends. She got into the troubles because she worked for the LAPD. The LAPD should… help her.

"We have a new boss. He is only following the procedures. He doesn't know me," she replied shortly, determined not to dwell on the hurting feelings.

Still, Lucifer was right. Since the beginning of this affair, she was surrounded by the suspicions, not support. Now she saw it.

"Shouldn't be there something like the benefit of doubts?" muttered Lucifer as if reading her thought, but then shrugged his shoulders: "Anyway, the girl from the HR told me that the lieutenant asked for your personal files. I thought I should let you know. Unless you were informed about it?"

Chloe stared at him in disbelief. "How… could she prattle about something like this?

"Darling, it is me. People like to tell me things."

"Right. She shouldn't have, but I guess that you are the one big extenuating circumstance." Chloe turned to her punching bag, placing further hits, but somehow they were all a bit too weak as if her arms didn't want to cooperate with her any longer. "I didn't hear about it," she admitted after a while.

"Shouldn't they inform you, if you are a subject to… some kind of investigation?" asked quietly Lucifer.

"That depends. Rather not. These are the procedures," replied Chloe numbly. She hit a bag a few more times. "But, usually, the employees get some informal warning," she admitted after a while, feeling that something inside her was breaking.

Usually, long-term trusted employees were somehow warmed in advance, that something was happening 'around them'. A sign of trust and respect for their service.

Trust and respect she obviously didn't manage to earn.

* * *

The devil does not have remorse, so Lucifer didn't regret what he had just done. He only felt something strange clenching his heart when he observed the detective falling apart after his words.

It wasn't his doing. It was already in her. All this bitterness and disappointment, all these emotions were already boiling in her, just under the surface. She needed only a little push to acknowledge them. All that Lucifer did, was helping the detective to see the truth.

Some pesky voice in him whispered, that there is always more than one truth. And perhaps someone else – someone better, a better man, a better angel – would tell the detective something different. Like, let's say, 'this are only the procedures, detective, but all your colleagues are at your side'. Or, 'your boss is new here, he is simply afraid to misstep'.

Something that would help her to prevail this storm with her morals intact.

However, Chloe Decked didn't have an angel sitting on her shoulder, whispering her words of comfort. She had her personal devil with an agenda of his own.

He watched her now, trying to continue her exercise, even if all the energy seemed to have left her, her hits lacking previous strength and her movement – slow and graceless. What the Hell has he done? All right, he felt remorse. Chloe Decker was a great detective, she loved her job and was so good at it and…

And it was all a lie, wasn't it?...

Five or six years ago she was leading an investigation involving the underground boxing ring in the building he rented to set up Lux. He was certain – he felt it immediately – that it was at the same time when he and Amenadiel were leading their own investigation, the beginning of his big LA adventure.

This couldn't have been an accident.

Perhaps they were to meet already five years earlier.

It all has been orchestrated. Her investigation, whatever it was about, the man stealing Amenadiel's necklace – everything was manipulated, so that they would meet and when it didn't work out – oh, perhaps that's why Delilah died, shot in his embrace, so that Chloe would interrogate him, getting his interest?...

Nothing was real. Everything was a chain of tricks and manipulations.

Lucifer rubbed his face, the tingling of Hellfire close, so close under his skin… He had to take a grip of himself, after all, he didn't want to scare the detective. She was just a victim, exactly like he. Perhaps, even more, taking into account the fact, how much of her short life was a manipulation.

Was it why she left her acting career and became the detective – because as such she was more likely to draw his interest? He certainly wouldn't feel that thrill accompanying the actress on the stage plan.

No, she said that she decided to join the force after the death of her father, so it would seem that her decision was unrelated... but why exactly her father died?... Was it also, because…

Was her father, just like Delilah, no more than an accidental casualty in this game?

For a moment, Lucifer hesitated, whether he wasn't overdoing it. Wasn't it a… paranoia getting a bit too close to madness?

But what if he was right? One more reason to follow his plan. Running away wouldn't change anything. To avoid further victims, he needed a clean cut, even if it might hurt.

He took a deep breath, concentrating. One final push was needed. Something… decisive. _A short break for Trixie,_ said the detective. She tried to sound casual, but he heard it – this undercurrent of guilt, of regret, hidden in one simple word: short. Humans, how much of their guilt concentrated around their offsprings! Even going to the biggest extremes for them, they still felt obliged to do more.

"You sacrificed a lot for this job, didn't you?" he observed casually. "Must not have been easy, especially with your time-consuming spawn."

Done.

"I would never expect that you would understand that," the detective looked at him with a surprised half-smile.

Lucifer didn't return her smile only waited for his words to sink.

After a moment, Chloe stopped exercising. "Trixie was never time-consuming," she said quietly, looking at the ground at her feet. "I taught her that my job is… important." Her voice broke at the last words.

With a sigh, that sounded close to sob, the detective rested her forehead over the punching bag.

"Lucifer, leave me alone," she said dimly.

Wordlessly, the devil turned back and left the premises, allowing her to break down in privacy. There was nothing left to do here, but wait until the seeds of disappointment would grow and bloom.

Chloe Decker was a professional, through and through. _The detective._ Her job, her career was one of the basic pillars of her personality.

Now they were crumbling.

And when this would be gone, when she would lose her faith in her professional choices, her devil would be near to help her rebuild, to substitute his Father's manipulations with… with his own?...

At least this was the theory because so far he was sitting at the threshold of the crappy gym, waiting for her to leave the building, feeling abashed, unhappy and very, very angry.

Of course, he was angry at Father. It was all His fault.

Deep inside the devil was happy that he was not having the therapy sessions with Linda anymore. The doctor would probably force him to admit that he was angry at himself.


	4. Crime solving Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, I am very grateful to everyone who took time to leave a comment. I thrive on your responses:) 
> 
> A small remark concerning the events in this chapter and in the last one – Lucifer is not bad. However, he thinks he is hated by the omnipotent and omniscient being, that can freely bend and manipulate the reality. It would make anyone paranoid.  
> Lucifer is acting here basing on the same logic that made him cut off his wings.
> 
> And Chloe is overreacting, right. But haven’t you ever invest too much in a job, gave too much of yourself, expecting the same in return – and got disappointed? Didn’t it hurt?... 
> 
> Of course, they are both making mistakes, but that's what makes the story :)

Whatever uncomfortable whispers might have been haunting Lucifer’s conscience since his conversation with the detective in the boxing ring, he decided to deafen them with the flurry of activities. He engaged himself fully in his undercover mission, starting the investigation in defense of Chloe Decker very early in the next morning – so early, that it was actually late at the previous night.

“If I wanted to steal narcotics from the evidence lockup, how should I do it? And let’s assume that we are talking here about the wholesome quantities, Darling. Adequate for the market,” Lucifer turned toward his companion, expecting a specific answer for his theoretical question.

Susan Daily, a young clerk from the precinct, was making a rather unassuming but stable career as a secretary, accountant assistant – and recently as a registrant at the evidence magazine.

“Very difficult,” she replied sleepily. “Don’t try it. Just tell me what you need and I will see what I can do.”

They were currently in the Lucifer’s apartment, in the position that in the sweetly prudish Victorian era would be considered as deeply compromising.

“Oh, no, thank you, my Dear. I am absolutely comfortable with my own supply. But I would be rather interested in the technique. If you were to sneak something from the evidence. How would you do it? I am sure you would know some tricks. Impress me.”

Susan raised her head from the pillow, resting on her elbows, evidently flattered. She considered the issue for a moment until sighing with disappointment. “No tricks, I am afraid,” she admitted. “I would simply take the stuff and report it as missing. That’s nothing special, I guess. Sorry.”

However, Lucifer just caught a trail that should lead him to the person, who was trying to frame Chloe Decker.

“On the contrary, Darling!” he exclaimed with full conviction. “You are absolutely brilliant!”

Susan beamed, like a little shiny star.

* * *

After the hint from Susan Daily, Lucifer was more than sure of close victory. After all, the Douche said something similar: the strangest thing was, that the theft of drugs came out. So, the person, who reported the loss of narcotics, was now the first suspect on the devil’s list. He only needed to identify him – or her – and then… ask a few questions. However, in spite of Lucifer’s enthusiasm, it was not easy to establish the name of the whistleblower, who noticed that narcotics were disappearing from the evidence lockup and pointed at Chloe Decker as the potential culprit.

 _Whoever did it, must have been preparing the scheme since weeks,_ he thought, carefully watching the register, made accessible to him by the courtesy of Miss Daily, trying to spot the similarities in the handwriting between the falsified Chloe’s signatures and other signatures, to spot the culprit. _First, put the detective’s signatures… with different dates… then take the narcotics from chosen cases and simultaneously report them as missing… and whoever did it, wouldn’t even have to bother with taking them out of the precinct, it would be enough to… dispose of them in the nearest bathroom. What mattered was that they would be missing._

Lucifer felt a sting of guilt realizing, that the scheme must have been started shortly after he left the precinct. Was someone using the occasion that he was no longer working with the detective, keeping her back? He should have been there, guarding her. He would notice the possible risk at the early stage before it escalated. He should have…

 _She was the one who asked me to leave,_ the devil recalled, but it didn’t help.

The signatures in the register didn’t tell him anything. Perhaps, the perpetrator didn’t need to sign it. An auditor? Lucifer spent a few minutes going through the internal procedures to establish, who would have unregistered access to the evidence lockup. He almost died from boredom and designed a few torture schemes involving the lecture of procedures with multiple mutual references, but found nothing of use. Then he made a round of gossip with the employees in the precinct security unit and when this didn’t work either, checked the resources in the precinct’s internal network and hard discs. Most were password-protected, but it didn’t matter. The content of the documents opened to him, just like the souls of humans.

Around noon the devil was almost ready to admit that perhaps this time his hubris might be punished. He was running out of options, getting hungry and in a hurry before the meeting with the Douche concerning the case they were officially working on. Having decided, that subtle approach was a mistake, he walked straight into the Lieutenant’s office.

“Mr Morningstar,” Watts welcomed him with a polite smile. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like to know, what is that you desire the most,” said the devil, because he was too bored and impatient to play in courtesies.

Lieutenant Watts stared at him for a while, frozen mid-though, with open mouth, reminding of a fish dragged out from the water. His self-control crumbled under the devil’s gaze, like the house from cards at the gust of the wind. “To retire,” he said suddenly.

“Understandable,” nodded Lucifer. “All this work, must be pesky. I guess that internal problems are a nuisance?”

“I am afraid to be held liable if I won’t ensure the proper supervision,” confided Watts, his sight still caught in Lucifer’s dark eyes.

The devil grimaced painfully. “Please, don’t. I speak all languages, but the clerical gibberish is my least favourite. After reading your procedures today, I have my share of it for a lifetime. Tell me about Detective Decker.”

“I am going to suspend her,” replied Watts obligingly. “Today.”

“What?” stuttered Lucifer, in a second all his arrogant confidence lost, as if he was the one to be suspended and could do nothing about it.

“I need to.”

“Why?...” whispered Lucifer. Slowly, his initial shock transformed into anger, because… because how dared this cold, boring man in front of him, hurt his detective? How was it even possible, that this miserable creature, so weak, that it gave in to the devil’s powers without a blink of resistance, was keeping in his hands the fate of the most amazing woman on the earth? “Why?” Lucifer growled and Lieutenant Watts tilted back.

“I need to,” he repeated quickly. “The evidence is missing and she is pointed at as the culprit… and someone else knows about it. Some from the outside. I would keep it under the carpet,” he looked at Lucifer almost beggingly, “but someone else knows… I need to react, otherwise...”

“Yes, I know, proper supervision, and all,” snarled Lucifer. “Show me what you have.”

Without hesitation, Lieutenant Watts reached for the folder laying on his desk and handed it to the devil.

It was filled with anonyms. Emails from the anonymous address informed that the narcotics gathered as evidence in certain cases were missing and pointed at the detective Decker as the potential culprit.

Anonyms. It meant, that Lucifer’s theory crumbled. The theft was not done by the whistleblower.

And yet, Lucifer had a hunch, that Miss Daily led him close to the solution of the riddle. What mattered was… that it was much easier to steal the evidence after it was reported missing…

“How do you know it was written by someone from the outside?” he asked, flipping through the files.

Lieutenant Watts, released from the spell, when the devil’s attention shifted to the folder, was looking at him in the utmost confusion, probably wondering, why he was discussing the classified documents with the civilian consultant. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to play along.

“Anyone from the precinct would simply come and talk with me about it,” he explained.

Lucifer snorted with rude laughter. Anyone could have written it. Watts was simply projected his fears of external judgement. It didn’t matter. What mattered, was not who wrote it, but who took the narcotics. _Easier after reporting missing than before…_ Lucifer concentrated, considering possible scenarios, eliminating the impossible, one by one…

Suddenly, he bore his sight in Watts again: “Did you took it?”

“What? No!” gasped the Lieutenant, captured in the devil’s sight again. “I would never!...”

“I see,” agreed Lucifer. “But when you received the anonyms, you had to check whether they were true, right? Did you asked someone to do it?”

“No, I did it by myself.”

The devil bit his lips, thinking. “Here or in the evidence lockup?”

“Here.”

“Who brought you the box with evidence? A janitor?”

“My secretary.”

“Ah, so.” Lucifer took a deep breath, smiling triumphantly. “Lovely.”

The secretary’s name was not in the register. He found the loophole he was searching for.

“Thank you,” he nodded. “Now, about this suspension…”

The devil hesitated and stopped silenced. On the other hand, why shouldn’t Chloe know, how poorly her work treated her? She was blindly following the path Father chose for her, respecting all the rules and protocols… If Lucifer lets the Lieutenant talk with her about this suspension…

She would be hurt and suffer, true. However, it would last no longer than a day, or even a few hours, because Lucifer was certain he would manage to reveal the real culprit till the next day. She would be reinstated and keep her job.

However, she would also be furious and disappointed.

Her faith in her work would crumble, leaving the void in her soul… And Lucifer would be there to fill it in. She would be one step closer to be his, when this part of Father’s manipulative influence on her life would be destroyed.

 _Very well,_ whispered – no, hissed – the snake with him. He put away the folder with anonyms and looked at the man in front of him with narrowed eyes.

“Forget what we talked about.”

Lucifer was, unfortunately, no Jedi and usually, this little trick didn’t work faultlessly on human’s minds. However, Lieutenant Watts was a weak one. He shivered, blinked and looked at the devil with a confused smile.

“Mr Morningstar!” he called. “How can I help you?”

* * *

After leaving the Lieutenant’s office, Lucifer stopped a moment to look at Watt’s secretary. He would gladly ask this man a few questions right now, had it not been for the fact, that no more than the glass panel separated them from the open space of the precinct and the conversation they were going to have would require… some privacy.

Besides, he would be late for the meeting in Dan’s case.

So, the devil only wiggled his fingers, soothing the itch for clasping around the throat of his victim and sent the secretary curious glance, as if searching for weaknesses he was going to thoroughly examine later. At first glance, there was nothing unusual in this man. Just a clerk.

Still, Lucifer would never underestimate clerks. Not after the Babel tower fell. The romantic version of confound languages was not entirely accurate. These were more like a few crooked deliveries, leading to the shortages and downtimes in the construction. All because some greedy scoundrel wanted to fill his pouch with a stolen gold… And yes, perhaps the said scoundrel had made some deal that had gone wrong… The devil smiled to his memories and shook his head with indulgence. Humans and their money!... His eyes fell on the secretary again, the man showing first signs of anxiety at his presence.

Well, this one won’t get rich at the expanse of Chloe Decker.

Lucifer found a secluded corner near the stairway and retrieved his phone. He would be now busy with Dan, but there was no need to linger. Even on vacation – even retired – he was still the king enough to give orders from time to time.

“I want you to do something for me, Mazikeen,” he commanded. “Find me the private address of the said Robert Duncan, presently employed at the precinct as the Lieutenant’s secretary.”

“Sure,” replied lazily his demon. “But that’s gonna cost you.”

Lucifer raised his brows. He kept forgetting that the first of the Lilim had claimed her independence. Absurd as it was, he didn’t mind. Wasn’t it the highest victory of the free will, if the demon who was his shadow and servant for millennia, reached for it?

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I need cleaning services.”

“Really, Maze? Have you gone sloppy?” chuckled the devil. “Spilled a bit too much blood somewhere? You used to be able to clean your nasty stuff. And mine as well, to be precise.”

“I am not talking about the crime scene,” snorted Mazikeen. “This I can handle. I need a cleaner. Dishes, floors, bathrooms. Apparently now it is my turn to clean the apartment and Decker is getting grumpy. Send me the cleaner from Lux.”

Right. Recently, the detective and Mazikeen started to play in a household now, living together.

“Very well,” he agreed, frowning at the realization, that if now it was Mazikeen’s turn, it meant that before the detective was cleaning the house for them both. There was something very wrong with this idea. “But I need this address still today.”

He disconnected, checking his watch. Just as planned, he would solve the case still today, learning who and why tried to frame the detective.

The devil’s eyes involuntarily ran toward her desk. He avoided her since morning, to let her process the things of her own. She was so… downcast. Tired and discouraged. Sitting behind the computer since morning, working on some stupid papers far below her competencies…

Suddenly, he wanted to take her out from here. For a walk along the seashore, on his favourite beach. Or to one of these fast-foods, she would enjoy. Or even to the mountains. She told him once she liked hiking. A short walk on fresh air would bring back the light to her eyes… He imagined her windswept and smiling, a bit flushed from the effort, but happy…

He could do just that. With his wings, he could take her anywhere in a second and equally so easily bring back.

Wings, right.

That was what a nice good angel would do, use his God-given wings to bring joy and peace.

Only that Lucifer was not an angel anymore and he was not going to live a lie, even if it was going to cost him happiness.

“Here you are!” the voice of Daniel Espinoza pulled the devil out from his musings. “Something happened? What’s eating you?”

“The eternal dilemma concerning my place on the _scala naturae._ Never mind _,_ ” Lucifer shook his head. “Let’s go and squeeze your perp.”

“He is not a perp,” muttered Dan. “No… squeezing, okay?”

They were to meet not the suspect, but one of the less important witnesses in Dan’s case. The only special thing about him was that he happened to be the car dealer and served as the pretext for inviting Lucifer to be Dan’s consultant. Of course, Dan, while speaking to the Lieutenant, exaggerated a bit, describing a dealer in the ordinary auto sale as the fastidious vendor of retro vehicles, who would speak only with the kindred spirit and whose role in the investigation was crucial. That’s why, even if the simple phone call would do, both Lucifer and Dan were to visit the man in person.

Besides, Lucifer promised that he would take part in Dan’s investigation and he was going to keep his word. Doing otherwise would be too close to lying which Lucifer didn’t fail to point out, on their way to the dealer’s premises. Even if Detective Douche remained offensively unimpressed, Lucifer made his best to keep his word and actively participated in the conversation.

Perhaps even a bit too actively. The car dealer confessed to a few unpaid tickets and certain inaccuracies in counting his commission. He also cheated on his girlfriend, twice. Nothing of this had anything to do with Dan’s case.

Once they were back in the car, leaving the reformed dealer behind, Dan exhaled with relief.

“I didn’t appreciate Chloe,” he muttered, giving Lucifer a black look. “She is even braver than I thought if she manages to put up with you on a daily basis.”

“Managed,” corrected him Lucifer a bit bitterly, ignoring the rest of the sentence. “It is in the past now.”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows. “But… you would return now? Once we are done with this… undercover, you would work again with Chloe, right? I mean… you were getting along quite well… before… well, Candy…” he finished clumsily, with each word losing more confidence.

Lucifer frowned. As the matter of fact, he didn’t consider what he would do after finishing the investigation. The conversation he was going to have with the secretary should answer some questions. Perhaps it would take a few more days to get to the bottom of the intrigue, but not more than this. And still, he didn’t think, whether he was going to stay with Chloe Decker at the precinct.

 _Because you that will not be an issue, right? You know what will happen._ In his conscience whispered the voice, very similar to the voice of his brother, the one whose name he didn’t want to recall. _You have started a chain of causes and effects and you know the final result._

 _No, I don’t,_ he almost bridled. _And I didn’t._

He didn’t do anything. The detective was already disappointed and Watts was going to turn back on her, acting on his own cowardice. Lucifer didn’t persuade him to do anything. He only… didn’t intervene, allowing the events to take their own course.

He could have prevented it.

He still could prevent it.

Maybe that’s why he was here? Maybe he was summoned to help… to feel compassion and grow soft, falling into the trap of his destiny…

_Well, in such case someone up there made a big mistake._

“Daniel, I am not returning to the precinct today,” he said to his companion. “Tomorrow, I should be able you who framed Chloe, but today I am not… doing… anything at the precinct.”

“Fine,” nodded Dan. “And, wow, you are quick. That’s great. Chloe is on edge, you know.”

Lucifer knew.

* * *

Chloe usually tried to be composed and professional during the conversations with her superiors. Use a substantial argument. Never, ever show emotions.

This time, she didn’t manage.

When Lieutenant Watts, with false concern in his voice, announced her, that for the sake of the precinct and for her own sake she must be suspended in her duties until ‘the problem’ would be cleared out, she lost every bit of her composure. She has never been that angry before, perhaps not even at Dan, when he told her about his role in Palmetto.

The old dick was concerned neither about precinct nor about her, the only thing he cared about was securing his position.

Unfortunately, in her anger, she might have said something exactly like this. She might have also reminded Watts, that he was new on this post. And that he got promoted only recently, and perhaps prematurely if he didn’t know how to trust people. She might have also used a few unappropriated expressions, ‘coward’ and ‘blind’ being the most civilized of them.

Perhaps that was the reason why she ended on two months unpaid suspension, which was extremely long. Dan consoled her and promised, that Lucifer was going to clear her from all the suspicions very soon. Somehow, she believed him, but she was furious anyway. Even if they managed to find out the truth and save her career, it would not change the fact, that… her work had treated her wrong again.

Something in her whispered that she was exaggerating, that it was not the whole work, but only Watts… but she felt too bitter and disappointed to care.

Dan wanted to stay with her to cheer her up – but she refused, asking him only to take Trixie for a night, which he of course accepted… All the detective wanted was to be left alone. For a moment she thought about calling Lucifer, but then resigned. He would be… too much, and she felt too weak and too tired… Besides, Lucifer wouldn’t understand.

Only after noticing lights in the windows of her home, she realized that she wouldn’t be alone after all. It was one of these rare occasions when Maze decided to stay home for the evening. That was fine. Maze wasn’t… too much. What’s more, Maze finally cleaned the apartment, something that Chloe nagged her to do since a few weeks. For a second, the detective felt slightly better.

“Maze, it is lovely!” she exclaimed after entering the house, surprised how everything was fresh and shiny. It turned out that Maze knew how to clean, despite her scornful protests. “Thank you. I needed a nice surprise.”

“Something happened?” the brunette sent her a sharp glance. She was sitting on the sofa, drinking… something straight from the bottle. “Where is the kid?”

“With Dan. It was just… a heavy day,” replied Chloe, turning her eyes aside, reluctant to share her calamities. If she would go now straight upstairs, she would probably manage to avoid questions.

But then, all of a sudden, she just stopped in the middle of the room, so overwhelmed with everything, so weak and tired that she was unable to move.

“Decker?” Maze jumped from the sofa and neared to Chloe. “What happened?”

Chloe didn’t reply. Somehow, despite her efforts, to hold on, the tears veiled her sight.

“What happened?” repeated Maze narrowing her eyes. “Is it Lucifer? Did he do something again? If so, I swear, I will beat him to a pulp. I do not care about his wings, I still know how to hit him so that he would squirm.”

“Maze, what are you talking about?” Chloe shook her head and smiled slightly, even if the first tears were already running down her cheeks. Maze and Lucifer were so consistent in their devil game that it was endearing. “No, Lucifer is actually helping. It’s a… work thing.”

“Hm. So. Spill,” Maze took her arm and pulled her toward the sofa. “What’s going on?”

Chloe pressed her lips together, trying to swallow back the tears. She needed to explain the situation to Maze, of course. After all, there were also… financial consequences. Two months without pay could turn into the catastrophe and they have barely rented this house. Maze needed to know that.

“I have problems at work,” the detective said dryly, trying to remain composed. “I was accused of something… and my boss… didn’t believe me. Such things happen, sometimes, Maze… I will sort the things out, but…”

Chloe stopped. Somehow, the words sounded hollow on her tongue. She was too tired to struggle. She didn’t care for anything anymore. All this… had no sense.

This was the moment when she broke down. The tears blinded her vision and when she gasped for air, the breath turned into a sob. And then she lost all the control, sitting and crying and crying, in an ugly, wet way.

“Decker? Chloe?” Maze looked at her unsurely and the detective, for her sake, tried very hard to get together. Still, each time when she tried to say she was fine, the only result was the new wave of tears.

“Fuck. I have no idea what to do,” muttered Maze. She reached for her phone and stepped aside, making a phone call. Chloe was vaguely aware that she was calling Lucifer.

“I am fine, Maze!” she called, but her voice was hoarse and weak.

Maze returned looking a bit more confident. “Lucifer was in the middle of something. He said he knows what it is about would have answers tomorrow,” she said with relief. “So, Decker. Calm down. It is gonna be fine. We would mend it.”

“No, Maze. This won’t change anything,” replied quietly Chloe, feeling terribly tired after her outburst. “I mean - I hope I will have my job back, and my salary, and it fine, because I need it. But… that’s not enough. Maze, it is about trust. People I work with should have trust in me. I… I gave so much to this work. I have… sacrificed so much… of Trixie’s time… I was leaving her… with the babysitters… when she was sick,” Chloe started to cry again, the deeply hidden layers of guilt finally resurfacing, carried by regret. “And it didn’t matter, Maze. Nothing I did, mattered now. They treated me like… like a burden. Like something to be cleaned.”

“Decker. I have no idea what you are talking about,” Maze interrupted her and frowning, with a very awkward grimace, tried put the shoulder around her. She looked so uncomfortable, that Chloe had to smile, despite her despair. “Look, Lucifer always keeps his word. Tomorrow you will know the truth and you will shove it your stupid boss in the ass.”

“Maze, nothing would change what happened,” replied Chloe gently. “Even if Watts would apologize to me tomorrow, it won’t change the fact, that they left me alone when I was in a difficult moment. No one can turn back the time, not even Lucifer.”

She was ashamed of her outburst in front of Maze, but also very, very sad. And The new wave of tears started to sting her eyes.

“True. Just don’t cry again, okay?” Maze looked at her with anxiety. “It is terrifying. You know what? You can ditch your stupid job and work with me. We would make a team. And we can be co-workers with benefits. I know you think that you are straight as a pole, but just give me chance… Shit, where are you taking all that water in your eyes? You would dehydrate, stop it. I can find this boss of yours, pull his guts out and wrap them around his neck. Would it help?... It would help me, I can tell.”

“Maze,” Chloe waved her hand to silence her. Her throat was dry and aching. “What are you drinking?”

“Vodka,” Maze nodded in understanding and reached for a glass, pouring a generous dose for Chloe. “Here. Should do the job.”

* * *

When Maze called, Lucifer was sitting in the house of Robert Duncan, awaiting his return, calm and quiet, like moray lying in wait. Still, his composed focus shattered, when he heard the detective crying in the background. He barely managed to finish the conversation with Maze, as the hellfire flared in his heart, in his eyes, under his skin… For a second, he was nothing but burning rage demanding to be quenched by the punishment dealt to the one who made Chloe suffer.

 _Are you also going to punish yourself? You knew what would happen,_ the voice of the brother, the one lost to the void, sounded in his head, but Lucifer dismissed it easily. Whatever weaknesses he might have been recently prone to, they couldn’t reach him when he was burning with the hellfire. The devil needed to be resilient to guilt.

Robert Duncan committed the crime and he deserved to be punished. Everything in Lucifer burned with anger, righteous anger. And to would be so easy, to close, to sate the hunger of the flames… He and his unaware victim was just nearing to the door, reaching to the doorknob, no more than a few seconds from his destiny…

Lucifer forced the hellfire away, returning to the human form, even if the flames, unfulfilled and hungry, howled with disappointment. He would need Robert Duncan to testify tomorrow at the precinct. To do so, that creature needed to stay sane, at least for the time being. Therefore, the hellfire would need to wait a bit longer for his rotten soul.

Probably, none of Lucifer’s siblings would be able to do it, to silence the wrath, knowing its reasons were justified. Sometimes, on very rare occasions like this, it passed through his mind that perhaps ruling Hell was not a part of his punishment. Perhaps he got it when his Father saw there was enough of a snake in him to tame the hellfire.

Damn. Now when he heard Chloe crying, when he recalled his brother and his fall… he couldn’t possibly be more frustrated. Luckily, the occasion to vent up just entered the room.

“Hello, Bobbie,” Lucifer called in a sing-song voice.

The man, who was just about to switch on the lamp, froze, with the outstretched hand.

“Mr Morningstar?...” he asked unsurely. “How did you… What are you…” he stuttered, not finishing any question. He must have just recalled, that even if Lucifer was the most popular consultant in the precinct, there were also a few strange stories about him circling around.

“There is something you and I need to talk about, Bobbie.”

“Oh my God,” Robert Duncan stared at him, pale like a sheet. “Oh my God, you - you know, right?”

Lucifer grimaced reluctantly. Where was fun in it? He wanted to play, and this pitiful man was done before he even touched him.

“I know, yes,” he sighed. “And God knows too. Only that He doesn’t care. I, on the other hand,” he stood up and started to walk toward the man, still frozen on the spot, “I do care. Speak, Bobbie. Drugs, lies and anonymous mails. Speak.”


	5. Everything's fine

On the next day, Robert Duncan caused quite a commotion at the precinct, as he started his workday from confessing to the theft of the narcotics from the evidence lockup and to the attempt of putting the blame on Detective Decker.

“How… just how did you do it?” whispered Dan to Lucifer, looking at him in awe. “I mean… I knew you would get to the truth, but how did you make him simply… come clean? Without interrogation… tapping… anything!”

“I just convinced him, that there are worse things than a few years in prison. Like, of course, to live in sin,” replied innocently Lucifer. “He just… he saw the errors of his ways and didn’t want to burden his conscience with more lies.”

Dan measured him with a doubtful glance. “And did he also, by any chance, wanted to avoid another conversation with you?”

“That might have also contributed to his decision,” nodded Lucifer, folding his hands. “Believe me, Detective Douche, he slipped off the hook easily.”

“I really, really do not want to know what you mean,” sighed Dan and silenced, as Lieutenant Watts approached them.

“Mr Morningstar,” he muttered, sending Lucifer were unsure look and stepped aside, so that he would be closer to Dan, than to his consultant. The devil only rolled his eyes. Messing in brains might have some lasting effects on humans.

“Detective Espinoza,” continued Lieutenant Watts, “I was trying to contact Detective Decker, with no success. She didn’t come today and…”

“That’s because you suspended her, don’t you remember?” chimed in Lucifer. “I guess that it meant she had to pack her personal things in one of these humiliating cardboard boxes and leave the place, right?”

Lieutenant Watts stepped from one foot to another, appearing awfully uncomfortable. “I was acting in compliance with security procedures and according to best practices in the situation of…” he stopped abruptly, looking at Lucifer with anxiety. On his temple appeared the beads of sweat. “That’s not an issue anymore, of course,” he said instead. “Of course, after what he heard from… Robert Duncan, Detective Decker is not suspended. I wanted to tell her that, but she does not pick up my calls.”

“I will try to contact her, Sir,” nodded Dan.

“You should do it yourself, Sir,” repeated Lucifer mockingly. “Such avoidance is very close to sloth, and sloth is one of the Seven. You know, cardinal sins?... Worth remembering, really. Try to think about them a kind of procedure, it does wonders to your…” he would speak further, but Dan pulled him aside.

“Stop it,” he muttered quietly. “I know that you are angry at the Lieutenant, and so am I, but Chloe made here quite a scene yesterday. You should have seen her. She could have been suspended for half of the things she said. Let’s not make the situation more difficult. Anyway, do you know why Chloe is not responding? I called her many times, and I texted her…”

“From what I heard, she and Maze made a small pity party yesterday, with a lot of booze involved,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders, hiding behind the arrogance the sudden sting of anxiety. “She is probably now covering from the daylight with the cushion over her head.” The sneering words left unpleasant taste on his tongue, far too close to the lie. Didn’t he know better? He lashed out at Watts, he mocked Daniel… yes, he was terrified, awaiting for meeting with the detective.

_Suddenly afraid to see the results of your actions? After all, belated regrets are your speciality._

_The devil does not have regrets,_ Lucifer wanted to reply to his inexistent brother, but with surprise realized that it would sound like a lie. Suddenly he regretted, ah so many things, that he even didn’t know where to start. Somewhere around the Flaming Sword, probably.

“Okay. Well, I am going to keep calling Chloe, until she replies. We need her here. This case is far from closed,” stated Dan, stepping aside with the phone by his ear.

And that was true. Robert Duncan confessed not only his deeds but also his motives. He was bribed by an unknown contractor. Someone, whose identity remained hidden, held a hard grudge against Chloe Decker.

Lucifer shook his head and, in absence of any better solution – like turning back time, for example – went to search consolation by the snack vending machine.

* * *

When Chloe, urged by a few phone calls from Dan, finally appeared at the precinct, she received a lot of congratulations and friendly pats from her co-workers. A few days ago, she would welcome each sign of support, but today she only thanked them with a tight, forced smile.

Somehow she couldn’t force herself to care.

 _I am happy to have my job back,_ she repeated herself. _Everything will be again as it used to be, and I am happy for it._

And yet, she couldn’t force herself to feel authentic joy. She felt… distant.

Only a small welcoming committee consisting of Ella and Dan warmed her a little because well, it was Ella, she could warm up Spitzbergen. And Dan was helping her since the beginning of this affair. It was his idea to ask Lucifer for help and Lucifer…

If the culprit appears at the precinct confessing his transgressions and asking to be locked in a remote, secluded cell, Lucifer must have had something to do with it.

Chloe searched for Lucifer and spotted him in some dark corner behind Dan’s desk. She quickly neared to him, intending to pull him in a hug too, but he looked at such worried, even tormented expression, that she didn’t dare to touch him.

“Thank you,” she said only. “I… Well, you saved my job. I don’t know what would I do…” somehow, words failed her.

Of course, she felt grateful for his assistance. She felt relief that she wouldn’t have to deal with the financial consequences of two-month unpaid suspension. Apart from that, she felt… nothing. Her work always meant for her so much more than money. Sense, fulfilment, satisfaction, belonging. Now it all was gone.

 _No, I love my job and I am happy to have it back,_ she reminded herself, even if something deep inside her whispered, that some things simply cannot be undone.

“Thank you,” she forced herself to repeat with more energy than she felt. “I guess that it is now my turn to keep the end of the deal. Have you already decided what do you want?” Part of her wanted Lucifer to demand something strange, something crazy, something that would wake her up. Maybe then she would stop feeling so detached.

“My end of the deal is far from done, Detective,” replied Lucifer avoiding her eyes. “Robert Duncan confessed that he was bribed to frame you. We need to find his contractor.”

“His phone and accounts are now being checked,” said Dan, joining their conversation. “Hopefully, this would lead us to the identity of the person who paid him. Until this moment, you should ask for protection.”

Chloe rubbed her temple. If only she wasn’t so tired... No, it was not a hangover. Yesterday, after her outburst, she was so exhausted that after two drinks made by Maze she fell asleep on the couch. Her weariness was not physical. It was something… deeper.

She forced herself to concentrate on Dan’s statement.

“Protection? I do not think that it is necessary,” she replied. “Unpleasant how it may seem, I suspect it was done by someone from the precinct. One of the Malcolm old buddies, who keeps thinking I wronged him,” she said bitterly.

Dan looked at her doubtfully: “Why to use Duncan in such case, instead of doing it alone?”

“I don’t know, not to get his hands dirty?” Chloe shrugged her shoulders.

“You are letting your… disappointments mislead you, Detective,” said slowly Lucifer. “It is much more likely that this intrigue was orchestrated by one of the perpetrators you sent behind the bars.”

“Lucifer, I am acting on my instinct, not on my… whatever,” bridled Chloe. Why was he so stubborn? She wanted to call this case closed and return home.

No, wait. She had her job back, so she needed to stay at work for a few hours more. Somehow, this thought brought no enthusiasm, only dismay.

“Then your instinct is failing you,” muttered Lucifer, but before she managed to protest, raised his hand in appeasing gesture: “Humor me. Assume for a moment, that I am right. Any idea, which delinquent from your former cases could hold such grudge against you?”

The detective shook her head and opened on her computer the file with the list she tried to made two days ago.

“Actually, I was even trying to make a list of criminals who threatened me personally during arrest or investigation,” she pointed at the document. “I do not think that such a scheme could be prepared from the prison, so my bet was on someone recently released. And none of these sentences ended in the last few months.”

“Very good idea,” praised her Lucifer, leaning over her shoulder to see the list displayed on the screen of her computer. Chloe realized that she finally felt something other than weariness – irritation for him at moving so close. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Didn’t he have a sense of personal space? Or was she suddenly short-sighted?

On the second thought, it wasn’t irritation. More like anxiety. But if she moved her chair back now, he would certainly notice…

“What if someone managed to get their sentence reduced?” asked Lucifer, apparently fully concentrated on her list.

“I would be informed about it.”

Lucifer finally straightened and Chloe let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Hate to be the one who brings it on,” he said slowly, “but what if you weren’t informed? I mean… I noticed that humans tend to build the networks of mutual support in the cliques based on the place of employment…”

“Man, what are you talking about?” Dan interrupted him impatiently.

“My guess is that prison wardens play some role in passing over the information about a change in sentences?” Lucifer asked softly. “And considering what happened with Perry Smith… he might have had friends among his kin… I mean among the functionaries on similar positions. Twisted as it may seem, some of them might blame you, Detective, for his downfall. Of course, he was guilty, but revenge is all about emotions, not about logic.”

The wave of painful memories washed over Chloe. Perry Smith, the deputy warden, the murderer of her father… She tried to shift the painful memories aside. “Yes,” she said with an effort. “No one can deny that he lost his job because I… reopened the investigation concerning my father’s death. What’s more, that’s the reason why his settlings with Russian mob were revealed… which led to his death. However… Dan, what’s happening?”

Her ex-husband, suddenly paled and sweaty, leant over the glass wall. He looked as if he was going to faint.

“Yes,” he muttered. “It is nothing!” he snarled at Lucifer, who stepped in front of him, measuring him with a cautious glance. “I just… I just think that if Lucifer is right, anyone, anyone from your list may have been released recently, Chloe, and the information simply didn’t reach you.”

“Which means that mafia might be involved,” nodded Chloe. Somehow, she didn’t feel moved, but she tried to focus. Right, mafia. Mafia would not resign after the first failed attempt. They would probably go after her…

It was even surprising how oblivious she remained to everything around her. At the moment, there was only one thing she cared about. If it was indeed mafia…

“Dan, does your parent’s offer for Trixie’s vacations still stands? Because the school year is just ending, so…”

“It does,” nodded Dan, understanding her immediately, “but it is too long and she is too small.”

“I know, but this might be the best option,” Chloe smiled to him squeezed his hand. Poor Dan, he was looking so miserable… “Besides, you would go with her and spend with her a first week or two, wouldn’t you?”

Before Dan managed to reply, Lucifer forestalled him, snorting: “Excuse me for interrupting the family scene, but, is it really the best moment to discuss the holiday’s plan of your spawn?”

“Lucifer, it is not about vacation, it is about… securing Trixie,” Chloe sighed with indulgence. “If I am at mafia’s gunpoint, I won’t be risking living with my daughter in one house. Actually, I would even advice Maze to move out, but… well, it is Maze.”

She turned to Dan again: “Why don’t we ask Trixie what she thinks about it?”

Dan wasn’t convinced and started to speak about protection and security measures again and Chloe suddenly felt even wearier than before. She had enough of it all. Things to do. Problems to care. Her work. Perhaps it would be wise to request protection, but the turmoil it would cause in her life would be unbearable.

“Okay, now leave me alone. I have a few phone calls to make. I will try to establish, whether someone from my list was released. Perhaps it is a dead-end anyway. It still can be one of Malcolm’s buddies,” she concluded with a smirk turning to her computer.

“I will fetch Trixie, she finishes earlier today. Then we would both talk with her,” agreed Dan and left.

Lucifer, however, kept standing over her, so long, that it was becoming uncomfortable. Chloe tried to work, hoping that he would take the clue and give her space, but he didn’t… and when she finally looked at him to confront him, he appeared as miserable, as Dan before.

Almost as if they both felt guilty about something.

“Lucifer?...” she asked with concern.

“Detective,” he whispered, “you are fading. What did I… What am I to do?”

“I am fine, Lucifer,” Chloe replied, slightly surprised with his choice of words. “I am fine. You did so much already. You helped me, you saved my job...”

“No, I…” he shook his head. “What would make you feel better? I can do anything. Just tell me.”

 _I could do anything._ How strange it sounded. _Just tell me._ For a moment Chloe felt slightly dizzy and tried to fight off this feeling.

“There is no need,” she tried to smile calmingly. “Everything’s fine.”

And at the moment her words sounded in the air, she knew it was a lie. Nothing was fine. Nothing wouldn’t be fine. The disappointment cut her too deep.

She was worried and tired, and falling into some… incapacitating chasm of despair, the took all the energy from her… and Lucifer was staring at her with such intensity that it was almost unbearable.

“Help me with the phone calls,” she said, just to occupy him with something.

If only she managed to get through the next few hours, perhaps everything would work out somehow. She would get back into the routine, forget, adjust…

She already knew, she would not.

* * *

Sending the child away was a bad idea.

Lucifer sat behind’s Dan desk, pretending that he was making phone calls, and tried to order the mayhem in his thoughts.

Actually, everything was going according to his plan. He wanted to have more influence on the detective. He wanted her to see past the manipulation in her life and… take his side. If he told her now everything… about her being the miracle… about all the coincidences in her life and unusual influence she had – or was destined to have – on his, she wouldn’t believe him. What’s worse, he would have to… oh, prove her, that he was a devil… and that would be a catastrophe he wasn’t ready for.

He intended to win her from Father’s influence without introducing her to… all this otherworldly stuff, as she would say.

One could say the things were going it good direction. Still, he didn’t expect it would be so hard to see her suffer. This… depressive aura around her was heartbreaking.

_You took something vital from her._

No. He didn’t do it. He only allowed it to happen.

And now, with the child gone for a few weeks, she would lose another pillar of her personality. She would be even more… lonely and vulnerable. On the one side, that was what he wanted to achieve, because she would be even more prone to his influence. On the other, however, the cost was too high.

It was making her unhappy.

And Daniel was useless. The devil realized this when the Douche almost bent under the wave of guilt after Perry’s Smith name was mentioned. Till this moment, Lucifer was convinced that it was Maze who set up Smith to the Russian mob. Now he saw clearly, that Dan took part in it. His motives were obvious – to make up for his… indiscretion leading to the failure during Smith’s trial. Of course, the Mother was the one truly to blame. As usual – poisoning everything she touched. Even if she seemed to fancy Daniel, she still sent him on the path of damnation, because the Douche, with his usual lack of consideration, while trying to mend minor mistake, endangered his soul with more significant one.

Whatever he was doing now, however caring and protective toward Chloe he was – it wouldn’t be enough. He was searching his own redemption, he could support detective in a way she needed it.

“Fine. I will mend it somehow,” Lucifer muttered to himself, deciding, that he would stay at the precinct. He would ask to be assigned to the detective, as her partner, again – Lieutenant Watts wouldn’t be able to refuse him anything – and slowly rebuilt her confidence.

Never mind the game with the Father. Never mind his own… desires. He would remember that she was a miracle and he would keep his walls up, but he would be there for her.

And the reward for his good intentions would be immediate because he would spend time with her. He would be able to take care of her small comforts and tell her jokes, that would make her roll he eyes and smile…

She had such a lovely smile. Radiant. _Like a summer’s day._

“Eternal summer,” whispered the devil, fondly looking toward the detective, the resolution about keeping the walls up utterly forgotten.

“Lucifer!” a high pitched cry pierced the air, ripping him out of Shakespearean bliss.

Lucifer turned toward it, just to see the little Beatrice entering the precinct with her father. Daniel said something to the child and headed for the detective’s desk, whereas the small one started to run toward the devil.

Right. He forgot that being in the vicinity of the detective involved the close encounters with that messy little monster. He cast a glance at his suit, foreseeing the destruction that sticky fingers were bound to cause to the gentle wool and braced for the inevitable impact.

The human missile suddenly stopped, without touching him. The devil flinched, unable to hide the disappointment.

“You stopped visiting us,” said the child accusingly.

Ah, apparently, even if he managed, more or less, to smooth his relations with the detective, her little sprout had a mind of her own and decided to give him a cold shoulder.

“I wasn’t welcome,” the devil replied a bit defensively.

“You disappeared without telling anyone where are you going and that’s very, very bad,” judged Beatrice, looking at him with condemnation in her big eyes. Had he been Daniel Espinoza, he might have wondered, after whom exactly the child took these brown eyes, but now he only squirmed under her scrutinizing sight.

“And you were dating Mommy and then you married another girl,” continued the child, proving that she mustered eavesdropping on grown-up conversations.

“That’s… only one, very simplified way to describe the situation, Spawn. In fact…”

“Mom was very sad because of you,” interrupted the child, the condemning tone in her voice strengthening.

“Yesterday?...” asked Lucifer’s guilty conscience.

Beatrice furrowed her eyebrows. “No, when you left. She was very, very sad. She even called Granny, and called her ‘Mom, which she never, ever does,” the child looked at him speculatively and added: “And she was crying to the phone.”

Lucifer shifter from one foot to another. She was doing it on purpose, wasn’t she? He looked toward her parents, searching for help, but they were engrossed in some conversation.

“Mum was even sadder than after she and Dad divorced.”

And here the little hellion overdid because that piece of information made him feel a bit better.

“I might have… done something… inconsiderate, but it is over,” he replied. “Besides I am not married anymore. So, everything’s fine now.” With a sour smile, he tried to cover uncomfortable realization, that it was the closest to explaining himself that he has ever been.

“Did you apologize to Mom?”

Actually, no. There was nothing he should be apologizing. After all, he was acting in the best intentions, with nothing, but the detective’s interest in consideration…

“You have to do it,” judged Beatrice, having read the answer on his face. “And when you stop dating, were your crying too?”

“No,” he replied immediately because the devil does not cry. He may rage, and toss and break thing, but he does not cry.

On the second thought, the devil also does not lie, even to a seven-year-old, so after a moment he amended his answer: “Yes.”

“So Mom would have to apologize to,” decided Beatrice.

Lucifer suddenly felt insecure, because this judgement reminded him somehow about the abstract wisdom of his Father. He cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. After all, it was a good occasion to start… mending things.

“Spawn, your getters want to send you for the whole summer to your father’s parents. Tell them, you do not want to go.” At her surprised sight, Lucifer added impatiently: “I am sure they are some terribly boring people, just look at your father… And I heard they are prone to the superstitions, they would force you to go to the church and babble some prayers each evening.”

“Yes, but I want to go,” Beatrice, unconcerned, shrugged her shoulders. “They have a farm and they let me ride a pony.”

“A pony? Don’t be ungrateful, your mother needs you here!” bridled Lucifer and, seeing that the detective and Daniel finished their conversation and were heading in their direction, leant to the child and whispered hastily: “I will get you a pony, just stay.”

“I won’t,” whispered back Beatrice and suddenly wrapped her hands over his neck, destroying in the tight embrace the crispy lines of his collar. “But you can date Mom again in the meantime,” she grinned in a wide smile

 _That’s so totally not the point!_ wanted to call Lucifer, but it was too late. The child’s parents joined them and started one of those chaotic family conversations, that involved also “summer at grandma’s”. The thoughtless little urchin reacted with enthusiasm, that decided the matter. Then they started to discuss what kind of shopping they need to do before the departure, and where Beatrice was going to sleep today and who would go with her to the soccer play…

The detective, for the first time today spoke with enlivenment, laughed and joked… Lucifer looked enraptured at the light in her eyes. Then, however, his mood darkened. The detective’s offspring was the most important source of her strength and joy. And she would leave her for many weeks depriving her mother of all this, at the moment, when she would need it the most.

Chloe would be left alone, vulnerable and lost.

 _The real problem about causality, Brother,_ whispered the angel’s voice that would never sound on any plane again, _is that once you set the chain of events it is terribly difficult to stop them._

* * *

 _Man proposes God disposes,_ the old saying says. Change the ‘man’ for ‘devil’ and that would be exactly what Lucifer felt after that evening. He was ready to swear, that the Father personally decided to dispose of all his plans.

At first, the evening in the Lux was unravelling as usual, with a glamour to be admired, music to be played and lips to be kissed – until the girl by Lucifer’s side, a bit too intoxicated, hard to tell, whether by booze or by his attentions wavered, her long, well-groomed nails scratching his neck deeper than intended. The unexpected sting of pain made him forget about his companion, leaving her disappointed and confused in the booth, and launch in the search of the more unique guest.

He spotted her by the bar.

“Hello, Detective. Did something come out? Any news from the prison wardens? Have you learnt, who might have bribed Duncan?” he asked curiously leaning over the counter by her side.

“Nope,” the detective shook her head a bit too violently, the hair scattering over her shoulders, and Lucifer with amusement realized that she was already a little tipsy. Taking into account her – nonexistent – tolerance to alcohol, she must have drunk a beer. Or perhaps even two tequila shots.

“Then to what the Lux owes the grace of your presence? Do not tell me you simply here to have fun, as if it was, let’s say, a night club?”

The detective frowned: “Hey, it is a night club. Do not people come here to have fun?”

Perhaps these were three tequila shots.

Lucifer beamed, already imagining the evening in the company of the tipsy, relaxed detective. However, the more careful look at her told him, that something was not right. The same clothes she was wearing at work… no make-up… red-rimmed eyes… She didn’t look as if she came to have fun.

The detective must have noticed his glance, as she shrugged her shoulders and explained: “I just need a safe place to go on a bender,” she said in a detached tone, denying her light words. “But I am fine,” she added hastily before he managed to open his mouth and ask the question. “And I would hate to monopolize you.”

Ah, so the devil was dismissed.

Lucifer knew, that the one who imposes himself, is rarely sought, so he didn’t insist on the conversation. “Have fun, Detective. And don’t worry, we would take care of you, if necessary,” he said more to the bartender, than to her. Patrick caught his glance and slightly nodded.

“I am not such lightweight, you know?” the detective bridled slightly, but without real interest and turned her attention to the counter.

Apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for talking. Well, Lucifer could understand it. She has been through a lot recently, she needed to vent up. He would very much prefer she would do it in his company – and he really, really would like to introduce her into some of his ways of… unwinding – but for now, it was enough that she came here. Not asked, not persuaded, she came to him, when she was in a dark place.

A dark place he pushed her into.

 _But I will mend it,_ he thought quickly.

Lucifer returned to his usual swirl of activities in the Lux, talking, joking, laughing, even played and sang a bit, doing all this halfheartedly, the other half of his attention constantly by the detective. She was sitting on the barstool and seemed more or less fine, even if a bit downcast. And she remained alone. A few times someone approached her, trying to start the conversation, but she must have sent them away, just like him.

From his point of view, he saw mostly the back of her head, but that was enough. The lights of the club cast the aurora-like reflexes on her hair. He could look just at it for hours.

And then some idiot distracted him, taking a selfie, someone else asked him about his last performance, some girl smoothed the laps of his jacket – and in the moment of commotion, he lost Chloe from his sight. When he got a clear view of the bar again, she wasn’t there.

Lucifer immediately made a beeline for the bar. Even before he reached it, Patrick wordlessly pointed at the direction of little corridor, leading to the backrooms. The devil turned on the spot, heading in the show direction, the blood in his veins getting a bit hotter because this corridor was used by impatient pairs for quick makeover sessions. If someone was trying to take advantage of Chloe…

But one of the bouncers was observing the corridor from the discreet distance. Lucifer relaxed, seeing that Patrick could be trusted to… take care of things. Lucifer patted the bouncer’s shoulder, to thank him and send him away and slowly peeked into the corridor.

Chloe, his mortal miracle, was alone, sitting on the floor, with arms wrapped around her knees. She wasn’t crying, but she was looking completely devastated.

“Detective?” Lucifer said quietly, lowering himself to sit by her side. “That’s not the most splendid part of the Lux.”

The detective measured him with a tired glance but didn’t protest or move back. She didn’t seem drunker than before, so probably she spent her time by the bar brooding, instead of drinking, as she announced.

“What happened?”

She ran her finger on the surface of the floor, drawing some elaborate shape, before replying. “I asked for a break at work. I mean, the holiday. I had a lot of due holidays,” she snorted in an unpleasant, bitter way. “I asked for six weeks. Almost as long as the Lieutenant wanted to suspend me.”

“Lovely!” exclaimed Lucifer. Was it all? Was she such workaholic that she got sick at the thought of vacation? “I didn’t know that you had such vindictive streak in you, Detective, but I entirely approve. I will serve your incompetent boss well when he is forced to cope without his best detective for so long.”

Chloe sighed and lowered her head, her hair falling down her shoulders again. Lucifer gathered them so that they wouldn’t touch the floor, but the detective didn’t seem to notice.

“I am not vindictive,” she sighed. “I just… I didn’t feel up to… coping with all this. It was either this or my resignation. Actually,” she snorted again, “I had my resignation ready. I changed it for a holiday request at the last moment. I guess that my cautious part kicked in. But Lucifer,” she looked at him, her eyes wide and teary, “I do not think I would return to work after this. I appreciate what you did to help me, but…” she silenced and added after a moment, her voice breaking: “Don’t call me ‘detective’ anymore.”

“Oh, no, no,” Lucifer shook his head violently. “I will always call you detective, even when you would become Lieutenant and kick that old fool out of his office. No, you simply cannot…” he looked around in desperation. That was… too much. He wanted distance from the Father’s path, not to… destroy her.

He never wanted that.

_The causality, Brother… sometimes slips out of control…_

A waitress entered the corridor to get to the back rooms, but after meeting his wild sight, quickly retrieved.

“Vacation is a very good idea,” he spoke hectically. “You would have a great vacation, you would rest and think about it all again, and see it all in a new light… You will see, Detective, all these gloomy thoughts would vanish in a bit of sun and drinks and…

“Dan’s angry,” said Chloe, ignoring him. “He said I should use my longer holiday to spend this time with Trixie. We had plans, you know, that perhaps one day we would make a longer excursion, perhaps to Europe.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” replied carefully Lucifer. Nothing would serve her better in the moment of crisis than the long, exciting trip with her daughter. Of course, it also meant that he won’t be seeing her for weeks… and suddenly he felt very, very bad about it… but for her, it would be good. He swallowed his disappointment and repeated with more conviction. “Very good plan. Do it.”

“Not this year,” Chloe shrugged her shoulders again.

“Why?”

“Look, Lucifer, I know I am a mess recently, but it is not like I would forget my daughter,” sighed the detective. “I thought it over.. at least the part about Trixie. There is a chance that you are right and someone is really after me… so, if I go away with Trixie, they would simply wait until I return. And Trixie would be in danger again. Now, I am going to use this time… to find out the truth… while she would be safely away.”

Lucifer considered her words for a moment and didn’t like the implications. “So, in other words, you are making a sitting duck of yourself? Out of the precinct, without protection, waiting for some miscreant to come for you?”

The detective flinched at his sharp tone, another sign, that there was something wrong with her because she never recoiled from a quarrel. Usually, she would shout back at him even louder.

“I will be fine,” she replied defensively. “I am just tired,” she said more to herself than to him, slouching over her knees again.

“Come, Detective, let’s get up and move somewhere to talk.” Lucifer slightly tugged her arm, but she only curled tighter.

“We have already talked.”

“Detective…” Lucifer stood up and pulled her more decisively, but she shrugged him off. “Let’s go up and talk. Or let’s go to the club and drink. Or up and drink. Whatever you want. Just… leave this place.”

He didn’t mean the corridor.

“Okay,” sighed Chloe, missing his point. “Your club, your corridor, you can evict me from here.” She stood up, the slight stagger revealing that she was still a bit intoxicated. “I think I’m not in a condition to have fun after all. I’ll go home.” She retrieved her phone and fumbled with it, to open her Uber account, but Lucifer took it from her hand. 

“I will drive you home,” he said gently. “Please, I need to.”

Chloe for a moment looked like she wanted to argue, but the pleading tone in his voice must have convinced her because she only nodded and followed him to the underground parking.

“Your spawn told me I should apologize to you,” he said cautiously when they were taking places in the Corvette. “I think she may be right.”

“Only for disappearing without a word,” the detective replied quickly as if she wanted to prevent him from saying something more. “I was worried that something happened. Of course, when I finally went to your apartment and saw these sheets over the furniture I realized that your departure was planned, so…” her formal, neutral tone, suddenly broke. “Everything’s okay,” she said looking away from him. “There is nothing to talk about.”

Lucifer knew already enough about human’s emotions to understand, that his apology wasn’t accepted.

They made the way to Chloe’s house in silence. For a moment hoped that she perhaps doze off in the car and he would have an occasion to take care of her… but as soon as he parked the car, she moved, opening the door.

“Thank you. Good night,” she said only and seeing that he was going to get out of the car, added: “I’ll be fine, really.”

Lucifer thought, that if he heard her saying ‘everything’s fine’ once again, he would burst in hellfire and burn something big.

Nothing was fine.

And most of this ‘not-fine’ was caused by him

He waited in his car, watching the windows of the detective’s house until the lights downstairs were switched off, and he lights in her bedroom appeared. Then he let himself quietly inside.

The next hours the devil spent laying on the terribly uncomfortable sofa in the living room, listening to the sobs, coming from Chloe’s bedroom, not daring to go upstairs and feeling extremely, undoubtedly guilty.


	6. Wings of a lie

Chloe was awakened by the sounds of conversation and clatter of kitchen utensils downstairs. At first, she suspected that Dan came with Trixie to fetch something she would need on her last day of school. Then, however, she recognized the voices of Maze and Lucifer.

Blushing, Chloe hid her face in a pillow. She felt very awkward after her display of weakness in the club last night. What the hell was she thinking – no, what was she doing?... Weeping after her job in the service corridor of the night club? She vaguely recalled how he tried to gather her yesterday, both figuratively and literally and squirmed with shame. Why did she go there, of all the places? In the moment of the worst vulnerability, she felt drawn to the Lux, like some stupid moth to the flame, as if she and Lucifer were still… something. Partners.

Then, however, her embarrassment faded into obliviousness, the already familiar apathy deafening other feelings. After all, even if she made a fool of herself, so what? Did it matter, when Lucifer thought about her? Not anymore.

She felt too tired… too tired with everything to care.

For a moment, Chloe lied quietly, hoping that Lucifer would finish his business with Maze and leave, but when the clatter of plates and cutlery became more intensive, the detective realized she would not avoid the meeting. With a heavy sigh, she raised, made herself more or less presentable and went downstairs.

Maze and Lucifer were sitting behind the kitchen’s table. One could say they were eating breakfast – Maze had a bowl of cereals sodden in colourless fluids; the detective knew already that it must have been vodka. In front of Lucifer stood his pocket flask and Trixie’s mug, neon pink with a rainbow unicorn painted on it. For a moment, Chloe numbly wondered, why Lucifer found it necessary to pour his whiskey to the mug.

Then she realized he was closed in the same suit as yesterday. “Hi,” she said unsurely. A quick peek outside the window proved, that his car still stood in the same spot he parked it yesterday. “What… what are you doing here? Something happened?”

Maze looked at her with a frown. “I live here. Haven’t you sobered yet?”

“I wasn’t drunk. And, ah, I was asking Lucifer.”

“Me?” Lucifer looked surprised that his presence could be questioned. “I and Maze made a deal.”

“Maze and I,” repeated automatically Chloe, used to correcting Trixie’s mistakes. “Sorry, never mind,” she sighed at his puzzled expression. “I won’t disturb you. I will just grab some coffee and…”

“Your coffee is waiting, Detective. And there is breakfast for you, something more… regular than Maze’s choice…” Lucifer stood up and started to open the pots and pans waiting on the heater. Chloe realized that most of the ingredients definitely couldn’t have been found in her kitchen. Her brain for a moment hung up at the dilemma, whether the fact, that Lucifer was obviously sleeping in her house, went shopping just after the shops were opened and made her breakfast was more… disturbing or more endearing… but wait, this was not about her, only about his business with Maze…

“And our deal actually revolves around you,” Lucifer concluded serenely, reaching for plates and cutlery.

“About me?” Chloe took the mug with coffee. It smelled so divinely, that she decided to ignore everything else, at least for a time being.

“Mazikeen told me you want to accompany the douche and your little spawn to their holiday destination.”

Chloe looked at the calendar. Due to her internal dilemmas, she neglected preparations for Trixie’s holidays. Accompanying Trixie and Dan to granparents was a spontaneous idea, to make it up to Trixie. Besides, it was the only part of her unexpected holiday she looked forward to – a day of fun with her daughter. She didn’t even mind the unavoidable dinner at Dan’s parents, who would certainly, as usual, subtly point out all the failures she caused as the mother and the wife.

“Yes, I want to spend with Trixie a bit more time. Perhaps we would visit some theme park. Recently I wasn’t very… attentive.”

“Of course. Whatever,” Lucifer nodded with slightly withdrawn expression, as usual, when the subject of family relations was raised. “Mazikeen will go with you.”

“What?...”

“I would do it anyway,” chimed in Maze. “But since he asked, I made a deal of it… so that he wouldn’t get ideas that I am still following his orders, you know.”

“Demons,” Lucifer sighed with exasperation as if expecting understanding from Chloe’s side.

The detective didn’t understand anything. So far she thought she didn’t have hungover but now her head started to ache. “Why would Maze go with us?” she asked weakly. “I mean, Trixie would love it, but…” Suddenly, she understood. “Ah, Dan managed to convince you to this… protection! Look, that’s very… kind of you, but I don’t need it. I am perfectly able to take care of myself.”

“Listen, Decker,” Maze stretched lazily on her chair, “no one says that you cannot. You are a cop, and all,” she smirked with indulgence. “But compared to me you are like a blind kitten lost in the middle of the night in the forest full of…”

“Mazikeen.” Lucifer snapped his fingers. “Detective,” he turned to Chloe who despite her headache, ruffled listening to Maze. “And Beatrice?...”

“What about her?”

“Well, if someone really targets you and would try their luck while you would be travelling… still with the child on board? No one said that your pursuer would wait till you would be alone. So far you didn’t manage to prove against the involvement of the mob. Are you ready to… lessen the safety of your offspring when you are able to provide her with a better protection?”

The words of protest stuck in Chloe’s throat. There was a bit of truth in Lucifer’s words. Of course, he exaggerated, but for Trixie… After all, they were sending her away for so long, just to ensure her safety. And Maze was a professional. She must have been protecting Lucifer for years.

“Okay,” she sighed, giving up. “But I would like to know the other part of your deal.” Chloe’s debt of gratitude by Lucifer was big enough. Whatever he promised Maze for her assistance, she was willing to offer herself, if only it would be within her possibilities, because knowing these two, it could be something entirely crazy, like “the dagger forged in the bowels of Hell”, or…

“Breakfast,” replied Maze, stirring with a spoon the content of her bowl.

“What? This breakfast?” Chloe stared at the cornflakes, sodden into the slush. She looked at the sophisticated toast on her plate and then at the pulp in Maze’s bowl again. “But that’s…” in the last moment she refrained from saying ‘disgusting’, “that’s what you usually eat?...”

“That’s what she wanted,” Lucifer defensively raised his hands.

“That’s what I like,” Maze shrugged her shoulders. “And it is still a deal. It is a matter of principles.”

Chloe sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You are really weird sometimes, both of you. But I do understand that you want to help me, Maze, me and Trixie, and I am grateful.”

As a matter of fact, she was also grateful for Maze’s company. Dan was going to stay with his parents and Trixie a bit longer and the prospect of a solitary way back was quite depressing. Strange, no more than a year ago, Maze treated her with open hostility, and now she was one of the closest friends.

Perhaps the same applied to Lucifer. Despite all the failures in their relations, despite these few weeks when they stopped all contacts, she could still rely on him. Perhaps she was wrong, writing off their partnership. Their romance didn’t work out – fine, some things simply weren’t meant to be. But they still could be friends.

For the first time since a few days, she felt slightly better, a single ray of hope getting through her dismay.

“You are good friends. Both of you,” she mimicked her previous words with a warm smile.

Maze snorted scornfully drowning the content of her bowl in one gulp. “Don’t get mushy, Decker,” she muttered, standing up. “I am going shopping. The occasion calls for a new set of something sharp and prickly.”

Having said this, she marched out of the room without a single glance back. Chloe smirked at her reaction. Far it would be for Maze to give in to the emotional moment… With a smile the detective turned to Lucifer to comment on it, only to notice that he got suddenly got strangely dejected.

“Lucifer?...”

For a long while, he kept staring at the floor under his feet, avoiding her sight.

“I need to make a confession, Detective,” he said finally in a very soft voice, that made Chloe shiver because it reminded her about that day on the beach when they kissed.

_When she kissed him._

“Yes?” she asked quietly, suddenly again as dejected as he.

“I knew what was going to happen,” he said with such difficulty, that Chloe felt guilty for not understanding, which forced him to speak further.

“Yes?...” she repeated gently.

“Before I pick up Duncan’s trail,” Lucifer started heavily, “I talked with different people at the precinct. Also with the Lieutenant. I had to make him… more cooperative, so…”

“You whammied Watts?” exclaimed Chloe, chuckling. The idea of Watts sweating under Lucifer’s glance and confessing his deepest desires was absolutely satisfying. “What are his… no, don’t tell me. That would be unprofessional. No,” she shook decisively her head. “Still…”

“Detective, don’t you understand?” Lucifer snapped impatiently. “He told me what he was going to do! That he was going to suspend you… for nothing. I could have stopped him and didn’t, and now you call me your friend and…”

“And that’s very good that you didn’t!” exclaimed Chloe, finally understanding what he was talking about. “Watts is my superior, you couldn’t do anything!”

The detective ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation. How could he even think that she would agree… ah, but it was all her fault. She must have misused his help in the past, letting him smooth things by Monroe from time to time, a small omission here and there, his famous smile that made everything so much easier… It even seemed funny, because Monroe was so fond of him… She shouldn’t have allowed this. The things must have gone in a really bad direction, of he felt guilty now for not manipulating Watts in her favour.

“You need to realize that these are my… professional relations. You should never, ever interfere in them,” she stressed.

“You do not understand, Detective,” he looked at her almost with despair. “I… I…” he stuttered and didn’t finish the sentence.

“Lucifer. I am grateful for your help in the investigation, but what you suggest would go too far. It would be unprofessional. I would be… humiliated.”

“You would never know!” called Lucifer and Chloe felt creeps at the thought that he even considered hiding something like this from her. “And you wouldn’t go through all this, Through this… crisis. You wouldn’t take this leave, you wouldn’t be so depressed, you wouldn’t…”

“But that wouldn’t be real!” fumed Chloe. “I wouldn’t know how… what they really think about me. Well, Watts,” she corrected herself, a bit reluctantly, because each time she thought that perhaps the opinion of the Lieutenant wasn’t the same as the opinion of the whole precinct, she had this nagging feeling that maybe she overdid her reaction. She shook her head to move this thought aside.

“It would be a lie, and I do not want to live a lie,” she finished decisively.

She would never expect her words would make such great impression on Lucifer. He appeared absolutely shaken, staring at her, as if she just made some incredible revelation.

“Really?...” he whispered. “Are you… are you sure?”

“Yes?...” Chloe replied hesitantly, confused by the awe in his voice.

For a moment, Lucifer looked at her with a mixture of hope and relief, only now revealing how tensed he was before. Chloe couldn’t believe he was agonizing so much about this small incident with Watts. After all, what happened was between her and her superior, and the decisions she made were her own, Lucifer had nothing to do with it. She was going to tell him that, but suddenly his face darkened again, his eyes haunted with the shadow, that was unpleasantly familiar. 

“Ah, but there is so much you have no idea about,” he shook his head. “So much… You wouldn’t be so quick to forgive me if you understood…”

Yes, she recognized this shadow. This… dark, lost tone in his voice. Whatever he got fixated on now, it was drawing him into the same depth he was already once, like when he called to the sniper to shoot him…

“Lucifer. There is nothing I should forgive you.” she stepped in front of him and tried to speak in her calmest, most reasonable voice. “You are a good friend. You are,” she stressed seeing that he wanted to interrupt her. “You helped me when I asked you about it. I still claim that you kept your end of the deal,” she said with a smile and Lucifer, almost involuntarily, smiled back. Chloe sighed with relief, seeing that her words are reaching him. “And now you are still worried about my safety. And you… took care of me last night, I appreciate it. Of course, it is a bit… well, you know… you shouldn’t sleep here without asking me, but I appreciate the concern. Thank you for all this. And I would never want you to hide the truth from me, even if it had to hurt me.”

Chloe thought about hugging him but resigned. There was some distance she needed to keep between them, for the protection of her own, bruised heart.

Then she recalled his yesterday’s apology she accepted so unfavourably and thought that in all that mess there was something she could mend.

“And Lucifer,” she added, trying to sound as earnest as she could, “I am sorry it didn’t work out between you and Candy. Really. I wish you all the best. I know it must have been difficult for you, to make such step, and then lose it and…”

Suddenly, she felt being pulled into a clumsy, but tight embrace.

“Oh, Detective,” sighed Lucifer, with almost comical despair. “How are we going to protect you, if you have no idea what’s going on around you?...”

Chloe stepped back with a frown, looking at him questioningly, but he only smiled falling into his usual, light tone: “I will go now, Detective, you should finally eat. Leave the gloomy thoughts and enjoy your breakfast, you know that my cooking is worth the moment of oblivion. And, ah, come back safely, Detective,” he concluded with a surprisingly soft smile.

The detective shook her head, looking behind him. Did he behave stranger than usual, or did she just disaccustom from his… Luciferness? She never fully understood what was eating him and blindly tried to patch his distressed soul. However, it seemed that today she managed to raise his spirit somehow.

And she felt a bit better too.

Chloe finally bit a piece of toast and moaned in delight. Yes, definitely better.

* * *

She absolved him.

There was no better word for it. When the detective said ‘I do not want to live a lie’, it was the aptest absolution he could receive. All that he did, all that he was feeling guilty about, suddenly made sense and became right once again.

Of course, she didn’t know everything. More precisely, she knew very little and understood even less. Most probably, she even had in mind something entirely different and insignificant, something concerning her job and that boring Lieutenant… still, words were words and she said them, she said them aloud in his presence, offering him the best forgiveness and justification he needed.

She didn’t want to live a lie.

For a moment, Lucifer thought about putting everything at one card and telling her… the whole truth. About her being a miracle. About him being the devil, one revelation bound with another. If she learnt that her destiny set out by his Father, she would doubtlessly burst out with just anger, feeling used and cheated, just as he did. She would turn back from Father and his plan – and Lucifer would win this round with the Almighty.

However, she would probably also turn back from him – and that meant that he would lose, he would lose so much that victory over Father lost its appeal.

So, he chickened out and now was glad about it. Somehow, he would work out a more subtle approach. After all, he was good at it. And he would also find the way to make it all up to Chloe, for everything his Father put her through.

 _And for everything I put her through,_ he added reluctantly after a moment.

He still felt guilty about her suffering. The very same suggestion, that she considered leaving her beloved job, filled him with dread. And yet, ever since this conversation when Chloe unknowingly granted him her approval, Uriel’s voice faded in his conscience.

* * *

Awaiting for the detective’s return was pure, hellish torture. The hours extended mercilessly. Somehow, it eerily reminded him of Hell, where the time was relative and the moments of torture prolonged into eternity. The devil even started to wonder, whether it was also a trick of his Father, a new, supernatural talent of the detective: that her absence pushed him into his personal Hell.

The two days seemed like ages. The mornings suddenly became unbearably long and the days – empty, as if these few workdays at the precinct set him into the new routine and losing it threw him off balance.

The evenings were easier. He stayed in the Lux till the hours so late they became early, and no sooner got to bed, than the first sun rays started to peek into the windows of his penthouse, casting reflections over Assyrian reliefs and modern glass surfaces. And still, he woke up not much later, fresh and ready to go to his ‘work’ at the precinct. Somehow, his brain couldn’t acknowledge, there was no reason for him to go to the precinct anymore. After all, neither the detective nor douche Espinoza was at work at the moment. The devil could only hope that the first of the Lilim knew how to take care of them and their little sprout.

Oh, how he regretted that he didn’t worm himself into this family trip, instead of sending Mazikeeen. He thought it would be too much of an imposition… but perhaps he wouldn’t be above it. Anything would be better than the emptiness of his apartment.

Somehow Lucifer couldn’t find it in himself to crowd the penthouse with humans eager to be ravished.

He slept alone and most of the time dreamt about flying.

* * *

“There was no need to trouble yourself all the way here, Mr Morningstar. I would be the most happy to provide the information by phone,” the man, who asked to name himself Pierre and claimed to be the French businessman, swallowed nervously, opening the door to his office to let Lucifer in.

“No problem, Pierre. I happen to have some free time to kill. And I definitely prefer to do my dealings in person,” Lucifer smiled charmingly and just for fun, just to set the mood of the conversation, for a second looked his host straight in the eye.

The man jumped nervously back and started to shuffle hectically the water bottles and glasses on the side table.

Pierre was no Frenchman and no businessman, but a middleman and negotiator for a very specific clientele. His shadowy range of activities made him one of the best-informed men in the Los Angeles underworld.

Besides, he owed Lucifer a favour. A very big one. A matter of life and death, one could say.

“So, how can I be of assistance? I will always gladly help,” Pierre rubbed his hands, trying to adapt business-like tone.

“Yes. Yes, you will,” accented Lucifer, looking at him with a grin and, when he decided that Pierre is sufficiently terrorized, came to the point. “I have a friend who works for the LAPD. We suspect that some of the criminals she dealt with in the past, set on the warpath against her.” In short words, he summarized the story of Robert Duncan’s transgression.

Pierre rubbed his chin in consideration. “You need to identify the contractor. I guess that he used the burner phone, so this won’t help… but can the LAPD trace back the money paid to that secretary?”

“They are working on it, but they are slow,” muttered Lucifer. He called Watts asking about the progress in the investigation, but apparently, they required more time. “I hoped you would have heard something.”

“No, I am sorry,” Pierre shook his head. “Mr Morningstar, you know how… complex and vast the less legal side of our city is. A vendetta of one crime lord against some cop won’t draw anybody’s attention.”

“It is not some cop, Pierre, it is my cop, and I expect a bit more engagement on your side,” growled Lucifer. “Find something and I consider our deal settled. Otherwise, who knows, what kind of repayment I would ask you for.” Having said this, the devil let the slightest shadow of flames flicker in his eyes – pale and gold, just to let Pierre wonder, whether it was just a peculiar reflection of light… or, perhaps – something else.

Pierre stared at him, petrified, like a rabbit looking at the snake.

“Give me something to start with,” he said quickly.

Lucifer nodded. “That’s better. My friend suspects that it could be orchestrated by someone recently released from prison. That’s the list of the scoundrels she send behind the bars. Do your job, ask questions,” he said, handing him Chloe’s list. “She also wonders, whether it wasn’t an internal job. A kind of… prank from her coworkers,” Lucifer ground his teeth.

“Definitely not,” Pierre shook his head. “Cops do not have such money. That boy was given quite a nice sum.”

“Dirty cops?”

“Would have to be very dirty.”

“I thought as much,” agreed Lucifer. He was right to be cautious. The detective shouldn’t have suspected her colleagues. On the other hand, it meant that the danger was serious and her persecutor was not going to stop after chasing her from the precinct. Who knows, perhaps that was the goal – to get her alone, out of her job and protection it offered?

“Mr Morningstar? You have thought of prisons, but what about cemeteries?” sked quietly Pierre. “Did your girl ever kill anyone in the line of duty? Perhaps these are the relatives, searching for… you know, revenge? Because, well… the bribe this boy was given… Not that I am in this business, I just happen to know the prices… It is almost the kind of money that would be offered to… you know… contract a hitman,” Pierre tilted back at the Lucifer’s sudden movement but kept talking. “And someone, instead of contracting a killer, decided to… well, to destroy her… I would bet on very emotional vengeance.”

Lucifer took deep, shaky breath. Pierre’s suggestion corresponded with his suspicions. Someone wanted Chloe out of the precinct and overpaid to achieve it… probably because he wanted to have an occasion to execute his vengeance with his own hands. Someone was holding a grudge too personal to simply hire a… killer.

He felt the creeps crawling down his spine at the very same thought of a killer targeting Chloe. A case, that appeared insignificant, suddenly become painfully serious.

With the highest effort, he managed to focus on Pierre again. “I will ask her. Not that I like your conclusion, Pierre, but I admit that you were useful. Check the list, ask the question, find me something more… and we will be even. Perhaps you will get your head out the noose… just kidding,” he concluded with a wink and almost friendly grin and waited, until on Pierre’s face appeared a shy smirk, to counter: “Sort of.”

Pierre worked best when properly motivated.

* * *

On his way back to the Lux, the devil got stuck in the terrible traffic jam.

It appeared in many Hell loops, a metaphor of the lost chance: souls stuck in the endless traffic, unable to reach their loved ones in time. Not that he had ever identified himself with the souls suffering in Hell, but today his nerves were simply on edge.

The long minutes passed, and he kept thinking about Chloe, that she was going to return on the next day and start her prolonged holiday, and that she would be alone for most of the time – and perhaps that was exactly some miserable human filth wanted. And that he was going to see her twice, thrice a week at most, and only if he finds pretext good enough to spend with her an hour or two. And that under any circumstances neither he, nor Maze would be able to protect her round the clock.

The other drivers vented up honking and shouting, but Lucifer only leant limply on the seat, sinking into his gloomy thoughts, just like the condemned sinner in the loop.

* * *

Once Lucifer finally got home, tired and tormented, he started with draining at least half of a bottle of very old and very expensive whiskey.

Then, having steeled his resolve, the devil stepped in front of the mirror and in a quick, swift move manifested his wings.

At first, he involuntarily shivered at the recollection of pain, as the last time he saw them, was the final of many attempts to cut them off. However, he kept looking, nursing his aversion.

Obtrusive reminders of divinity he no longer took part in. Chains, binding him to the will that was imposed on him. Unwanted gift reducing him to a tool in the hands of the One, he hated.

But still, they were beautiful.

Massive and snow-white, glowing with the light that at the beginning of time outshone even the gates of the Silver City and didn’t fade during the millennia on lower planes.

 _Gorgeous,_ whispered the detective, seeing the mere copy of them, when she thought it was some stupid cosplay requisite. What would she say seeing the original, knowing it was real?

For a moment, Lucifer desperately wished to see admiration on Chloe’s face. He wanted her to see his wings, to say ‘they are gorgeous’, knowing it was a part of him, to touch him with love and…

… and that was exactly the trap he was falling into. 

Lured by the sweetest feelings, by the need to be admired by the one he cherished, he was ready to pretend to be someone he was not.

_What would be next? A holy fear? Respect for grace? Obedience?_

He considered his reflection again. The wings matched the suit surprisingly well. Unlike his siblings, in their goofy robes and saintly poses, he looked sharp. Just in the right place between nice and naughty. 

But it was not him.

The rakish angel in the mirror was a lie.

 _That would be more who I am,_ he whispered and slowly, almost savouring it, let the hellfire consume his unblemished skin, turning it into the tangle of angry, red scars. For a long while, he kept looking, like entranced in the mirror.

The hellish nightmare with the wings woven from heavenly glory on his back.

Ridiculous.

He should really cut them off again.

With a heavy sigh, he sauntered toward the bar and reached for the whiskey, drinking straight for the bottle. Along with the warmth of alcohol diffusing through his body, he hid everything, both the wings and the devil’s form.

No matter how he felt about them, the feathery appendages were to stay. They were too useful to get rid of. They could take him to any place at the Earth or in Hell in a blink of an eye.

For example, he could reach the detective’s house in a second, if she needed him.

“It is all a trap,” he muttered to himself angrily, trying to fight off the urge to make, just in case, a small trial flight.


	7. Knocking on the devil's door

Amenadiel, as usual, had very bad timing. The morning he chose to visit his brother, Lucifer had more than one reason to be cranky.

To start with, at the sunrise he went flying over the ocean – something he hadn’t done since decades. The flight brought him unexpected pleasure, filling his soul with forgotten exhilaration, when he dived through the humid mist over the waters, slowly lightened up by the rays of the sun.

It felt, as if the world was young again, in the first days when dry land appeared from the waters.

Ashamed and alarmed by the joy he experienced using the bloody feathery appendages, Lucifer after returning to his apartment, transformed into the devil’s form and stayed in it, to remind himself that he was not a brightest of celestial beings anymore. The devil’s form, while not painful, was slightly uncomfortable, and made difficult most of the activities, like cooking, playing the piano, or even using the bloody phone. Still, Lucifer was determined to make a point against his Father, even if it required suffering some discomfort.

Apart from that, the forgotten muscles of his wings, cut through, miraculously remade and unused ever since, now ached and crept after the exertion.

Finally, the detective returned last night, but when he called, she didn’t want to meet. She said that the LAPD made no progress in the investigation in her case so far and that she would talk with him about his ideas ‘some other day’, because after the trip she had a lot of washing.

Washing.

His turn in her calendar was after washing.

So, the devil was sitting alone in his den, aching, sulking and brooding, when the hum of the elevator indicated the visitor and he felt his brother’s presence. Out of courtesy, he changed into the human’s form, but not soon enough that Amenadiel wouldn’t notice the sparks of hellfire floating over his skin. For a second, he looked at them transfixed, forgetting even about the greeting.

“You shouldn’t walk like that, in a place where everyone can come and see you,” he warned. “Humans shouldn’t get the proof of…”

“Of the divine?” Lucifer caught up mockingly when his brother suddenly stuttered. “Not exactly the case, don’t you think?”

However, Amenadiel’s confused gaze worked on his nerves, so he willed the remains of the devil’s form away. “Don’t worry, I knew it was only you. I felt your grace descending on my humble adobe… or rather ascending in my humble elevator.”

“Do I still have it?” asked Amenadiel, all of the sudden appearing unreasonably anxious. “The grace? Did you really felt it?”

Oh, yes, his big brother was still weeping after the lost Heavenly splendour.

“Am I an expert on grace now?” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders, turning his eyes. From what he could say, Amenadiel was nothing, but human now. “Why shouldn’t you have it? I told you I knew it was you.”

Amenadiel, heaving read the answer in his brother’s evasion, nodded sadly and turned to the window looking wistfully at the sky.

Lucifer moved to the bar, to pour the drinks for both of them, struggling with the irrational wave of anger. Here they were, two wayward sons like two puppies kicked out of home, staring into the sky, where the One Who Never Answered was hiding behind the Pearly Gate…

Besides, his brother was a pathetic idiot.

If Lucifer became human, if his wings painlessly rot away like his brother’s and connection to the other planes disappeared, he wouldn’t despair that much. Without munching over the details, he would go to the detective, use every trick in the book to get her consent and spent the rest of this desperately short, inimitable human life together – and at least for one short second in the eternity, he would be truly happy.

But, of course, he would never become human. He knew already that much. His first sin was pride and for pride he was being punished, stuck in his powers, his immortality and his bloody wings, till the end of time.

“To what I owe this visit?” to cover all these musings, Lucifer asked casually, handing his brother a drink.

“I spoke with doctor Martin. She was concerned about you.”

“Ah, the good doctor, I should really pay her a visit.”

Lucifer, somehow, missed Linda, her insight and witty observations. And yet, he didn’t return to her even after the threat of the Mother was gone. At first, he welcomed distancing himself from the human perspective. What was the sense in working on it, if Chloe didn’t want to see him anymore? And now… now the situation was too complicated. He didn’t want to listen to Linda’s questions. He didn’t want to listen to his own answers.

After all, it was probably also part of the trap, all this human emotions glitch.

“You have been seeing Linda? Does the doctor Canaan need the therapy himself?”

Amenadiel, of course, reddened. His blush was so deep, that it must have been caused by something more than a simple – even if malicious – a reminder of his first earthly intrigue.

“No, actually not… though I admit that talking with her… helps. We have been seeing… more like socially,” he answered stiffly and that was all Lucifer needed to hear.

“Well, isn’t that lovely!” he exclaimed with exuberance. “You really are speeding up, brother. Had no idea you have it in you.”

“No, that’s not like this,” Amenadiel stuttered the classic line, to his brother’s even greater delight.

“Then I am sure it soon will be,” he consoled him mockingly and added calmer: “You did clear up things with Mazikeen before that, right? Because demons tend to make a terrible mess when they think they are betrayed.”

Amenadiel, bridled: “Maze and I are fine. We are friends.”

“And now I am certain that you made a big mistake somewhere,” muttered Lucifer, shaking his head. Well, as you make your bed, so you must lie on it… and he wouldn’t mind seeing his brother squirming for a while on a bed made for him by an angry Lilim.

“Anyway, brother, I am a bit busy at the moment, but I will contact the doctor. Thank you for passing the information. In future, a simple call would be sufficient.”

“I have a lot of time,” Amenadiel smiled gently, without getting offended. Since their joint struggle for and against Mother, their customarily bickering got more friendly vibes.

Today, however, the devil was in a bad mood. He drowned his drink and looked gloomily at the spectacular view behind his windows. The problem was, that actually he had nothing to do at the moment. The detective must have decided to keep him at the distance. The investigation required time. He couldn’t even find interest in his usual entertainments, his thoughts constantly drifting to the detective.

How was it, that he managed to survive weeks without seeing her, intending to never meet her again – and now he couldn’t stop thinking about her?

Probably, he was just worried about her safety. After all, there was someone out there, some miserable miscreant, who wished her ill and already proved to be resourceful enough to cause troubles. It was good, she was living with Mazikeen, but the demon was somehow unpredictable and had a lot of issues on her own. Lucifer and Mazikeen were bound, she felt when he was endangered. Between the demon and the detective, there was no such bond.

Chloe would be so much safer at work. She would be assigned a partner… Hell, he would be her partner again, keeping her back.

And now she was alone. Someone could hurt her and he wouldn’t even know about it. Probably, Daniel would be the first one to be informed.

“Lucifer?”

The devil tilted hearing his brother’s voice. He forgot about his presence. Amenadiel was looking at him with half worried, half scandalized expression and Lucifer realized that his eyes must have lit with Hellfire again, but this time didn’t bother with changing them back. If his brother didn’t like it, no one forced him to watch.

“This… your eyes, your skin, when they change this a Hell issue, right?” asked Amenadiel.

“And how do you think, Brother?” Lucifer snorted in reply. “That it is my inner light I was born with?”

“Then why do you still have it?”

Lucifer looked at him with a puzzled expression, so Amnadiel developed: “You left Hell, right? You renounced it. Why do you still have its fire?”

“Apparently Hell didn’t leave me,” hissed Lucifer, now getting really angry. He turned to fetch another drink when he felt the wave of emotions coming from his brother, so intense that almost physically palpable.

“Amenadiel?” he asked quietly.

“Seems that Hell is more loyal than Heaven.”

Amenadiel was speaking quietly but his whole body was shaking with barely contained emotions: “You never cared for Hell. You were only seeking for this moments up here, where you could follow your trivial pursues. Your pleasures. You never felt… responsible for Hell. Then you finally denounced it. And yet… they are still waiting for you. The Hell, the demons. I have been there, I heard them. And I…” he silenced abruptly, swallowed and whispered: “I have lived ages by nothing, but carrying the Heavenly order. And now no one cares. They forgot me.”

“Well, Brother, that’s Hell. Much less competition for its favours,” Lucifer snorted, trying to ease the tension. Then he widespread his hands and called. “Brother, you are free! You achieved something I dreamt about since ages! You are off the hook! You should enjoy it!”

“I do not… do not know how.”

Lucifer sighed. Yes, his brother was an idiot.

That was true, he knew very little about real… life. Worse, he was never… curious. He never peeked at the Earth, trying to learn to it, as Lucifer did since years. Lucifer always found it fun to merge into the culture he visited, to follow the changes in fashion, in lifestyle… each époque had something new and exciting. Amenadiel appreciated neither the company of humans, nor the art or the cuisine, not even nature. He was always blindly concentrated on carrying the orders up to the letter.

Now, when there were no more orders, he was lost.

The devil frowned, looking at the tears glistening in his brother’s eyes. Lucifer actually was never afraid to show weakness, the vehement emotions being the source of his strength. Amenadiel, however, usually hid all the feelings behind the stone-faces façade. Seeing it crashed was unsettling.

Lucifer, with unusual empathy, felt that he should do something for his brother. He tried to reduce the problem to something that would be manageable. Well, no wonder, that Amenadiel was unable to enjoy himself, sitting in his scrappy apartment, with this hideous plywood furniture, wearing hoodies with an admixture of polyester.

Luckily, that was something easy to amend.

“You know what? I have an idea, how to solve your problem,” he stated with enthusiasm.

To start with, Amenadiel would move to his penthouse and then the devil would be able to teach his brother how to… live a little. He would show him a few things, find some hobby, perhaps… This might be even fun. Not that Amenadiel was his preferable roommate, but at least the apartment would not be so empty.

If only the detective’s problem could be solved so easily.

No, wait.

Lucifer froze, ignoring his brother’s anticipative glance.

What if the detective moved into his apartment? All his problems would be solved. Her safety would be ensured. The apartment would not be empty. He would be able to see her every day, without being forced to search for pretexts. They would have an occasion to talk, about truth, lies and Father’s plans…

Perfect.

“Lucifer?...” Amenadiel urged him shyly. “What idea?”

Right. He forgot about his brother. Again.

“Yes, about that. We would go now downstairs and get drunk,” Lucifer quickly came out with a backup plan. “Drinking helps. It may actually not solve any problems in the long perspective, but makes you do not care about them for a moment.”

Amenadiel grimaced with disappointment. “I might have tried it,” he confessed. “All it got me was a splitting headache.”

“Oh?” Lucifer measured him with a glance. “It means your metabolism is human now. You would booze it up quickly. Good, I do not have that much time for you. I have something to organize.”

* * *

If Lucifer asked the detective to move into his apartment, she certainly would refuse. Such… relocation would certainly require at least a few months of a committed relationship and even then it would come with many twisted and unnecessary conditions attached.

Lucifer needed a short cut.

Luckily, humans’ decision processes rarely were as well-thought-of as they believed them to be. Even such logical and organized specimen like the detective, acted more spontaneously than they would like to admit - just because they wanted to feel special, or recalled some small memory from their childhood, or, just like that ‘there was something in the air’. No matter how well-informed and rational they were, their decisions were usually taken on the spur of the moment – unique moment, influenced by dozens of variables, most of them beyond their perception.

And Lucifer was very could at creating the moments.

To cause the detective to decide, that she would move into his apartment, he needed a good timing and no more than four phone calls. Only the first one required calling in the favour and could be considered somehow… crooked.

The second call concerned a very simple request to the cleaning company servicing Lux.

In the third one, he asked Patrick to organize the hearing for new, young bands that could perform at Lux. Well, perhaps this was a bit strained because Patrick needed to made much more phone calls to organize hearing in one day, but that wasn’t Lucifer’s problem.

Finally, the fourth call crowned the work: he called Maze to invite her for the said hearing. The devil knew well, that if there is something the demon couldn’t resist, it would be an occasion to tease a bunch of young, slightly stressed humans. Once a torturer, always a torturer.

Still, Mazikeen was also a protector, so he mentioned casually that she should take the detective with her, because ‘she shouldn’t be left alone for too long, you know, just in case, before we learn who is after her’. He heard Mazikeen sharp breath in reply as if she caught the smell of the victim to trace and smirked with satisfaction, knowing that both she and Chloe would come to Lux. The detective could dismiss the devil, but even she would not be able to refuse the concerned Lilim.

It was all about pressing the right buttons at the right moment.

* * *

On the next day all his guests appeared on time. The detective was trailing a bit behind Mazikeen and Lucifer with supersize stated, that she looked almost shy. Confused, at best. And she was wearing something absolutely… random. Trousers and shapeless blouse in unidentified colour. As if she took the first two things from her wardrobe and put them on, without giving them the second thought.

Not that she didn’t look lovely, because she did, as always, but… did it mean that she didn’t care anymore?...

“Hi,” she said only, while Mazikeen walked amidst the young musicians waiting for their turn to perform as if she were on one of the ancient slave markets in Carthage. Maze still had difficulties with acknowledging the fact, that at some stage of mankind’s history the slavery was abolished.

“I know that I do not work here anymore…” she said slowly, licking her mouth. “But would you mind…”

“Oh, of course, By all means, do the honours,” Lucifer nodded and Mazikeen, with a shark smile, started to organize the hearing.

The devil moved back, pulling the detective with him. He sat her in his booth, brought the drinks and allow himself to sunk in the soft seat by her side.

The relief, to finally have her near, was immense.

It was simply terrifying, how much the presence of this frail, mortal woman mattered. Now, when she entered the Lux, he would prefer to keep her here, safe and close to him… Just send someone to pack her things, if there was something she wanted to have… With a sigh, the devil returned to reality. Of course, he couldn’t do that. Well, he could, but not with her approval. Humans tend to complicate the simple things, the detective was an excelling example. And what if she would not agree to move to him at all? She proved to be unreasonably immune to him, what if his plan fails?... The devil shivered, his fingers clasping a bit too tightly around the glass… he put it quickly away and, to calm down, started the small talk.

“How was the trip? Did Mazikeen managed to behave during the family dinner in the god Catholic household?” he asked cheekily and “I guess that she presented herself as your new life partner, causing the heart attack by your ex-douche noble getters?”

“Nope, actually it was even better,” the detective smiled slightly. “Maze… uhm, suggested that she is Dan’s new girlfriend. That was very suggestive… suggestion…. And then Dan’s parents begged me to reconsider the divorce. The best dinner I have ever had with them. I haven’t heard so many compliments through all these years while our marriage lasted.”

“Do not waste the time for some poor sods who cannot appreciate you, Detective.” Lucifer looked with delight the merry sparks dancing in her eyes. Unfortunately, they faded all too soon. The detective was not in her normal self. Perhaps not as depressed like during her last visit at the Lux… but she was obviously downcast. And tense. As if her usual beaming confidence was lost somehow.

“So what is bothering you?”

She kept silent for a moment, watching her fingers. “Nothing,” she replied with a helpless smile and explained: “I have nothing to do. I miss working. I guess I am not made for the holidays. I am just sort of… out of balance.” Having noticed his concerned glance running over her, she added, pointing at her outfit: “Oh, it is not that bad, I am not some depressed haggard wreck. I was just dressing a hurry… I didn’t intend to go, Maze basically dragged me out.”

She blushed slightly and the devil almost sighed with relief.

“Don’t worry, Detective, we would simply need to learn you to have fun,” he stated merrily. “Vacation is what makes life worth living.”

“But you are working,” Chloe observed soberly, sounding more like her usual self. “Why aren’t you listening to them?” she pointed at the band, performing at the stage.

“I would have to give each of them a few nights to perform at Lux anyway, in compensation for what Mazikeen puts them through,” he muttered but concentrated on the hearing.

No, actually the only thing he was able to concentrate on was the warming presence by his side. Compared to this, the weeks at Lux after their breakup, seemed cold and lonely, like all his timeless shifts in Hell… She made him feel more alive than ever in millennia.

 _She is a miracle and this all is a trap,_ he tried to recall himself, but that was too late. He didn’t want anyone and anything that much since the Garden.

He would need to disarm the trap and keep the detective.

Simultaneously, he watched time and at the set hour, he stopped the hearing, claiming that he needs to check the sound system. It was working just fine, but he wanted to make sure, that the detective would hear her phone ringing. The personnel in Lux was used to him heaving the best ear to the acoustic, so no one wondered when he switched off the sound and started to check the microphones, prolonging it deliberately, so that the detective would pick up her phone and led the conversation.

“Maze, we have a problem,” Chloe said, nearing to her roommate. She started to describe some apparently complicated hydraulic problem, their tenant just informed her about, but Mazikeen only shrugged impatiently her shoulders.

“So what?”

“It means they are going to make some serious repairs. Change a few pipes and so on. For a few days, the bathroom will be out of order,” the detective explained patiently.

“Shit. You see – I was right, all this cleaning was senseless.”

“Oh, that’s fine. If they have to do it, let them better to do it know, when Trixie is away,” replied Chloe, waving her hand. “We would find some motel or something.”

Lucifer finished meddling with microphones and watched the grimace appearing on demon’s face. Mazikeen specifically did not like motels. Somehow, she and all that ‘not-disturbing’ rules didn’t pass along very well.

He almost saw the wheels in her brain turn in the desired direction when she was searching for better options.

“Lucifer, did you gave my old place to someone?” Mazikeen asked suddenly. “Is it still livable?”

“No I didn’t and yes it is,” he replied with faked nonchalance. “I had the cobwebs dusted from time to time.”

“Oh, cool,” she sighed with relief and turned to Chloe: “We would crash at my old apartment for these few days. Come, I will show you around. Lucifer, you did not change the access codes?”

“Maze, I am not certain if it a good…” the detective protested, sending confused glance toward Lucifer, even if Maze was already pulling her toward the elevator. “Perhaps Lucifer…”

“No, the codes are the same,” he replied to Mazikeen and added his consent, for Chloe’s sake, because the demon didn’t concern herself with such details: “The place is at your disposal if you need it.”

As a matter of fact, the whole Lux was at her disposal, if she liked, but he doubted that she would accept Mazikeen’s offer. It was just an… interlude.

Mazikeen and the detective took the lift upstairs and Lucifer calmly continued the hearing, the young people relaxing in his presence. Some part of him was just a musician, a very devoted musician, and he could find a common language with the ones sharing his passion. Most of these young people were good at their art, some – very promising. Still, this time Lucifer couldn’t concentrate properly, his thoughts with the women upstairs.

It wasn’t long until the elevator started to move down. The devil observed the numbers on the panel getting smaller and smaller… until it stopped and two occupants left the cabin.

Mazikeen was beaming, whereas the detective appeared flushed and embarrassed.

“Any problem?...”

“Yeah,” she said avoiding his eyes. “I do not think that it is going to work for me.”

“You kept everything as I left it!” gushed Mazikeen, looking at him with the closest to tenderness expression that demon’s face can uphold. “I thought that you would pack all my remaining stuff away. Be careful, a few more gestures like this and I will start to think that you missed me.”

“You are always welcome,” replied Lucifer diplomatically. As a matter of fact, he asked to pack all the things Mazikeen left on the second day after her moving out, but this had nothing to do with him missing her or not. He simply liked to keep the things in order.

Yesterday, he asked to unpack and place everything just as it was originally. All the equipment and furniture. Very specific equipment and furniture.

“Oh, come on, Decker!” the demon turned to the detective. “Are you going to freak out because of the sex swings? You certainly at least saw one before!”

“Yes, I saw one when I didn’t let you hang it our living room,” replied Chloe, getting even redder than before. “But you know there is more of that. It is practically a sex dungeon. Sorry, Maze, I am not too old to get scarred for life.”

“I can take the chains off,” offered Mazikeen, in a show of selflessness unparalleled by any other Lilim.

Lucifer frowned, but luckily Chloe shook her head. “Maze, it is actually one room. Even the bathroom is in the open. I mean – that industrial sink in the middle of the room?...”

“It is very practical,” defended the demon. “It is for washing away the blood.”

The detective’s discomfort reached the peek and Lucifer knew it was his moment.

“You can stay in my guest room,” he offered casually, barely looking at her.

“No thank you,” replied the detective, surprisingly sounding even more uncomfortable than before. “I appreciate the offer, but…”

“I know what you are thinking,” Lucifer replied instead, “but that’s not a part of the open space. It is a normal guest room, with doors and privacy.”

“Yes, you know Decker? That’s a good idea,” chimed in Maze. “It is a boring room, you will like it. And there are stairs just near it, and my old place is just one lever lower. It would be as if we still were roommates. Just think about the fun we would have in the evenings. You need to loosen up, girl.”

“There are stairs?” asked Chloe. “I mean, in your penthouse? I was sure that there is only this famous elevator!”

“Fire regulations, Detective. Even the devil cannot do anything about it,” replied Lucifer. “Still, they lead through Mazikeen’s apartment. Only we used them.”

“Stairs. And half of the magic is gone,” sighed the detective. “But, that’s not necessary. I will go to a motel. It is only a few days, no problem, really.”

These were not going to be a few days. The hydraulic problem was going to turn into the fatal catastrophe, but the detective was still to learn in. Small steps.

“Just let’s see the room?” Lucifer proposed lightly. “I am done here and I was going to invite you for drinks anyway. We can have them upstairs.” He looked at Patrick, who nodded, signing that he would conclude the hearing and deal with everything that needed dealing with.

The detective still looked unconvinced, but the devil had a few more arguments in his sleeve.

* * *

While she was going up in the elevator for the second time this evening, Chloe thought that usually, she would easily accept the offer to crash for a few nights a friend, especially a friend who had a big apartment and led open lifestyle, so that her presence would not be disturbing.

Did the fact, that she didn’t want to accept Lucifer’s invitation, meant that she didn’t treat him as a friend?

Of course she did. Just as a friend, nothing more. She came to this conclusion a few days ago. His behaviour today only confirmed it – the proposition came without any single innuendo and generally, he seemed slightly bored and absent-minded as if he didn’t care much about the whole affair. 

Of course, that he didn’t and she shouldn’t also make too much fuss about it. And still, Chloe knew that for her staying with Lucifer under one roof for her would be very… difficult.

 _I will refuse, as politely as possible,_ she decided, before the lift reached its destination.

“Look,” she said, when Lucifer and Maze were fussing over the drinks, “there is no need to bother. I can always move back to my mother’s house. It is staying empty now.”

“Is it really necessary, to open the whole house for a few days, Detective?” replied Lucifer with distraction. “I would understand, if your little spawn was with you, for you alone… And it is really no bother.”

He pointed her into the part of his apartment she never visited before – a small corridor with a few doors. Chloe was still decided to refuse, but followed him due to sheer curiosity – just to see more of Lucifer’s famous penthouse.

“The stairs to Mazikeen’s former apartment are there,” Lucifer pointed at the last door on the corridor. “And the guest room is here.”

He opened the door and the detective peeked inside. The room was… disappointing. It reminded of hotel apartment: nice and comfortable, luxurious even, but with no specific character. Compared to the rest of Lucifer’s apartment, which was - whether by talented decorator’s hand of by the spirit of its owner – marked with some unique magic, this room was almost blank.

“I told you it is boring,” commented Maze.

“It was barely used,” defended Lucifer. “My guests usually… you know.” The absolutely unnecessary information that his guests usually sleep in his bedroom, hung in the air.

“I think that Amenadiel spent here a few nights,” he added after a moment of awkward silence. 

“And that bitch your mother,” reminded Maze.

Chloe cast an anxious glance toward Lucifer, because even if his family relations were weird at least, no one takes well calling his mother a bitch…. but Lucifer only nodded.

“Oh, yes. She did. Not very long though.”

The detective slowly relaxed. Somehow, she found it all reassuring, the neutral, hotel-like character of the room and the fact that it served only Lucifer’s family. That was a friend-zone, wasn’t it? Perhaps she really could stay here for a few days. After all, it was no big deal. Besides, she wasn’t going to spend much time here, it was the highest time to start her own investigation concerning her mysterious prosecutor… 

Chloe froze. How could she have forgotten?

“Oh, no, I cannot stay here!” she called. “You said for yourself, Lucifer, that there might be someone after me. You were the one to point out at the mob. How could I draw them here on your head?”

To her surprise, Lucifer beamed, as if he was waiting for her to say it.

“So would you rather draw them on some cartoon-walls motel and its unsuspecting guests?” he retorted and waited for a moment, letting his words to sink in. Chloe visualized the shooter barging into the motel, searching for her amidst other guests, families with children getting into his way… Not that the massacre in the night club was more acceptable, but…

“Lux has security,” prompted Lucifer, “very good one. You know that some of them are former cops, Detective. Mob or not, they would know how to deal with unwanted guests. Besides,” he added with a smirk, “we could use it. We would warn the guards and sat you at the bar for a few evenings, as a bait. Maybe, with a bit of luck, we would catch that big fish that troubles you. It would be almost like a stakeout, don’t you think, Detective?”

_Stakeout._

Chloe swallowed, fighting with an unexpected wave of longing. That small word made on her crushing impression. That was what she needed during her vacation. Work. She would be able to make a stakeout as if she was still working, and solve the case… she would have security from Lux to help, and, most importantly, she would have Lucifer as her partner again, and they would be solving a case together…

She wanted that, she wanted that so very, very much…

“All right. Let’s do it. Thank you,” she said quickly before her insecurities took better of her.

“Lovely,” commented casually Lucifer, taking a sip of his drink. “Do not overwork yourself with packing, Detective, I believe I will find a spare toothbrush somewhere.”

His voice was nonchalant and slightly bored, but his hand keeping the glass shivered slightly. Chloe registered it, yet the thought got quickly forgotten when Maze patted her shoulder with such strength that she almost doubled over.

“That’s great, Decker! Just think about the fun we are going to have in the evenings. You will have a real vacation for once. And if I get to have my way with that mob guy of yours, there will be something for me in it as well! Nothing spices vodka as well as a few drops of blood.”


	8. All that Miracle stuff

The morning was so hectic, that the detective at first didn’t notice the letter. It was even more like a note, thank a letter, a piece of paper folded in two, laying in the middle of the coffee table. Shame for a professional detective, but she had no idea when it appeared.

It was probably Lucifer’s fault. Somehow, he managed to make a simple packing very complicated. Chloe intended to gather some things necessary for staying overnight for a few nights, put it into her car, then secure the apartment before planned repair works, and finally – spend the rest of the day somewhere in the city, and drive to the Lux no sooner than at the evening.

And yet, because of Lucifer, the whole day looked entirely different. Somehow, she started it at Lux, eating with him and Maze breakfast in the empty club. Then, despite her protests, her car was left in the Lux garage. Lucifer insisted on driving her home, even if it forced him to take a vehicle with a carriage rack and, judging from his expression, driving anything that was not a sports car, caused him physical pain.

He didn’t leave her side when she was packing – even if she would welcome some privacy while going through her underwear drawer – and kept quarrelling about who should secure the furniture from repair dust. Chloe wanted to do it alone – and she meant really alone, without him hovering over her – but Lucifer insisted on ‘sending someone to do it’.

Finally, Lucifer did the work, struggling with plastic sheets and adhesive tape in his Italian wool and French silk outfit. He looked very irritated and very impatient, but the way he precisely secured the rooms would put Dexter the Bay Harbor Butcher to shame. Admiring his work, Chloe warmed up after the quarrel and thought she would invite him for coffee now, to thank him…

And then she saw the note.

Chloe felt instinctively that it shouldn’t be there, frowning with bad premonitions, as she reached for it and opened, reading a few, hastily written words.

_Running away? Won’t help._

For a few seconds, Chloe froze, realizing simultaneously many things. Someone wrote it and left here for her to find. Someone was observing her, this very morning.

Someone entered her home.

Someone wanted to hurt her.

Her head spun slightly at the realization, that someone walked through her living room while she and Lucifer were busy upstairs. And that Lucifer was probably right – all that was happening around her was not a mean prank. It was a real, big case.

After the initial stupor, her cop instincts kicked in and the detective felt even satisfied, that her elusive enemy finally gave tangible proof of his existence. That was actually good. Everything was better than fighting with a shadow.

“What’s that?” asked Lucifer, who was folding the remaining plastic sheets in the other part of the room.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, turning back to him to hide the note from his view. He was already overprotective, no need to stress him more.

Her gesture was probably a mistake, because quicker than she would think possible Lucifer was behind her, his hands sneaking around her to seize the note. Chloe allowed him – he was too quick anyway – and he opened the paper, reading it over her shoulder.

Seconds later, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close in a protective embrace.

For a moment, Chloe closed her eyes and leant over his chest, reveling in the feeling of being comforted.

She probably shouldn’t. It felt too good.

It felt good but was wrong. Friends can exchange comforting hugs but do not hold each other like this. Do not enjoy melting into their warmth and heartbeat, as Chloe did.

She tugged his arm, first gently, then a bit stronger, signalling she wanted to move away.

“That’s fine,” she said a bit hoarsely. “At least now we know that, whoever it is, he didn’t give up, after Duncan failed.”

Lucifer released her rather reluctantly and his one hand still rested on her shoulder. “I should have heard someone entering the house,” he muttered. 

“The plastic sheets make too much noise.”

“Still, I should have heard.” He shook his head with self-reproach. “I promise you, Detective, sooner or later this person would regret disturbing the safety of your home.”

The gravity in his words made Chloe feel uncomfortable. She snatched the paper from his hand before he managed to crumple it and reached for her bag.

“Let’s go.”

His hand didn’t leave her back, until they got into the car, the touch both comforting her thoughts and unsettling her senses.

“Did you ever kill someone in the line of duty, Detective?” Lucifer asked suddenly when they were already close to Lux. “I am not counting that poor sad Malcolm. Somehow, I feel we need to dig deeper into your past. Perhaps before our paths crossed?”

“Of course I did,” replied Chloe dryly. “Such things happen. Luckily, not very often.” She wasn’t happy about it, but she also tried not to let it burden her conscience.

“Would you make me a list?”

“What for?”

“I will ask around,” Lucifer asked evasively. “Someone I know suggested, that this boy Duncan was given unreasonably big money. You have a very personal enemy, Detective, this incident at your home confirms it. Perhaps the relatives… you know.”

Chloe nodded, falling into an uncomfortable silence. _Relatives_. For a moment she felt almost guilty.

Then the feeling got replaced by the wave of irritation at the man by her side. ‘I will ask around’! ‘Someone I know!’ How vague he was! And her role was to make a list and sit at Lux. How was it, that he took control over her investigation?... She didn’t mind his growing presence in her life, even if it came with a threat of embarrassing herself. She accepted his hospitality, let him drive her to his home… But her case? He was making some plans, concerning her investigation, he barely cared to reveal…

And, ah, in their duet usually she was the one in control, leading their small team because the was in the official capacity… and now? When their roles switched?

“Would you mind taking my bag upstairs?” she asked when they parked under the Lux. “There is something I need to do. I will come later.” Without giving any further explanation, Chloe reached for her laptop, squeezing it into her handbag and get out of the car.

Lucifer inhaled sharply, his disapproval almost palpable. For a second, the air between them tensed.

“You do not have to babysit me all the time,” added Chloe, jokingly, but with the edge in his voice.

Lucifer nodded, retreating, but his dark eyes, now charcoal black, followed her, while she was marching through the parking.

Chloe felt his sight burning stuck in her but didn’t turn back.

* * *

“Where is Decker?” asked Mazikeen, when Lucifer walked through the empty club with Chloe’s bag in hand.

The devil snorted with irritation. “She gave me slap on the wrist and marched out like a sulky kid, to underline her independence.”

“Whoa, aren’t you cranky!” called Mazikeen. “Did something happen? Did you quarrel, or something? What did you tell her?” She stepped in front of him, measuring him with a watchful glance, straightened and alert.

Mazikeen’s battle stance. Lucifer saw her like this many times, but rarely while facing him.

“Nothing,” he replied only, too irritated to care about anything other than the detective roaming alone in the city. “I am worried. Someone left a threatening note in her house.”

The demon’s eyes narrowed. “I may follow her... From a distance. She won’t notice,” she offered.

Lucifer considered it for a moment. The detective was evidently in a bad mood and wanted to have some time alone. Perhaps he overdid today, in his eagerness to transfer her to the Lux as soon as possible. If he pressures her too much now, it may have a reverse effect.

“No, Mazikeen,” he replied. “Your overconfidence is your weakness. The detective may notice you and then she would be furious. She does not want to be babysat,” the devil snorted angrily. “I do not want to spook her.”

Mazikeen frowned, then nodded in acceptance and turned back.

And in the next second Lucifer was pressed to the wall, the Hell forged blade pressed under his chin.

“Spook her? What’s your game?” hissed the demon.

Damn. Mazikeen recently appeared so domesticated, that Lucifer forgot one should never lower his guards in the presence of the Lilim. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear blasé as if he simply allowed it to happen. Better not to give her the ideas, that she managed to surprise him.

Which, alás, she did.

“Take that prickly thing away, Mazikeen, if you stain my shirt with blood, I will send you the bill from the dry cleaning.”

“What’s your game?” repeated the demon, her hand unwavering. “You behave… different. Suddenly, you are such a good friend? You were gone on her for months, and now what – you invite home without even trying to make a move on her? All fair and square? What are you plotting?”

“Amazing,” stated mockingly Lucifer. “The Lilim worried about a mortal. And it is not even someone you slept with. Or did you? What exactly were you doing on that little trip, huh?”

“Skip it. Your talking does not work on me.” Mazikeen showed the teeth in a sharp smile. The blade pressed stronger into his skin, breaking it. Lucifer grimaced with regret, feeling the small trickle of blood running down his neck, toward the collar of his shirt.

“Make her cry one more time,” stated slowly Mazikeen, “and I will skin you alive. Would be fun, considering it should not kill you.”

Now that was really amazing, the Lilim threatening the King. And it was not a joke, or foreplay, as it happened before. Mazikeen meant business.

Apparently, Lucifer needed to assert his dominance.

He decided to tell the truth. Only the truth. Not the whole truth, though.

“I want to help her,” he replied simply. “She asked me about it and I would do it anyway because I am worried about her. But I have decided to cease my… more romantic pursues, because, as you know, she is a Daddy’s Dear gift. I am not accepting gifts from Him, even if it is something very… desirable.” Despite his will, his voice trembled at the end of the sentence.

Mazikeen’s eyes went wide with surprise… and compassion.

“I didn’t… I…” she stuttered. Her grip on a knife faltered.

Lucifer twisted her hand away from his neck and shoved her away, without aggression, but strong enough to make his point. The demon landed on the floor, with a thud and a grunt.

“I would never want to hurt her, Mazikeen,” he concluded gently. “And my talking always works, even on you.”

* * *

Chloe went to the little coffee bar she liked and nested behind the chosen table, opening her laptop. The owner of the establishment knew her and welcomed her with a smile.

“Not in a hurry today?” He commented bringing her order to the table. Usually, she bought a take away.

“Holiday,” she replied, smiling back.

For the next hours, she looked through her old cases. Though she tried to be as professional about it, as she could, the ones where she was forced to kill someone stuck very unpleasantly in her memory. Perhaps that’s why she got so irritated at Lucifer, for reminding her about it. She even didn’t have to look through the files, each case still vivid in front of her eyes.

The case. Investigation. Pursue.

The moment of danger, her life hanging on the thin thread, no time for nothing but action. Exchange of fire.

And then, tons of reports, investigations, when the weight of human life was reduced to the piece of paper with stamps of it. Useless hours of therapy.

 _Comes with a job,_ Chloe repeated to herself. She would be a useless cop if she wasn’t able to deal with it.

“It does not appear that you are having fun,” observed the owner, bringing her the second coffee. “Working on vacation? You should rather take your little lady on a beach. Or to the zoo. My kids love the zoo.”

“So does Trixie. But she is with her granny’s now.”

“Ah. An empty house and no idea what to do with all that time. I know that feeling,” nodded the man. “Do not worry, Detective, a day or two and you will adjust. It will be worse to return to the routine.”

Chloe nodded with a forced smile, feeling estranged. The friendly guy had no idea she was dealing with. On the contrary, he only reminded her how peculiar her situation was. Once again she thanked herself for sending Trixie away. At least her daughter would not be again a hostage of some criminal’s revenge. If the person who left the note entered her home when Trixie would be inside… If he – or she – saw her… the most precious person n Chloe’s life... She couldn’t suppress the shiver.

Alone, she wasn’t scared. Somehow, she would deal with the situation.

Only that…

It struck her, that she lost – even if temporarily – almost everything, what kept her going. Her job. On her own wish, true, but she missed it terribly. Her daughter was away and she missed her even more. Even Dan wasn’t here.

Finally, she had to leave her house. For a few days, true, but it completed the picture of the misery.

 _It is all temporarily,_ she thought quickly. _I will have all it back._

Still, it was perhaps too much in a short time. The feeling of loss was overwhelming.

* * *

The detective made the list for Lucifer, as he wished. However, once she recalled all these sad cases, she was almost certain it was a futile task. None of them could have been the cause of such complex, vehement revenge.

Having finished this troubling task, Chloe decided to use her free time and take a walk through the city, something she rarely had time to do. For some time, she wandered, watching the display windows and entering the shops she never had time to visit.

And the more she walked, the more out of place she felt.

The coffee shops and restaurants didn’t appeal to her, once she was alone. There was nothing in the shops that would catch her interest. Now, when she finally had time, she wanted to buy a few things to complete her wardrobe. However, instead of measuring clothes for herself, she wandered to the children’s section and selected some new things for Trixie. The same happened in the bookstore. She wanted to buy something easy to read, to kill the time she had to spend in Lucifer’s apartment, but nothing caught her eye. After all, she could borrow something from him. After all, his library was better stocked than this shop. She only bought a book and some fancy pencils for Trixie.

Slowly, she was getting tired. It was hot, and the bag with the laptop was heavy.

Lux was calling her with an increasing appeal.

Chloe expected to feel a bit awkward, as usual when you stay for a night in someone’s else home… but to tell the truth, she didn’t. She just wanted to get there… and perhaps be a little less lonely. Who would say, that – out of the whole city – she would feel the most at her place in the high-end night club? She laughed at the realization and walked toward the famous building.

Lux welcomed her with soothing semidarkness and flawless air-conditioning. Chloe sighed with relief, descending to the club. It was still too early for guests, but Lucifer was there, together with Maze and his brother. He was playing the piano, while Maze and Amenadiel were sitting on the bar stools.

It was a very cosy, almost family scene and Chloe smiled, thinking that perhaps she would finally see a bit of real Lucifer. No one can put on the show forever, right? Even if he lived by his metaphors, by all this drama around him, there was still a man inside. With big luggage, slightly insane… but still just a man.

 _There are stairs to his apartment,_ she thought with a chuckle, _and perhaps his real name is Luke Morgan. Maybe he will show me his school diploma. Or some photos with him as a chubby kid, or clumsy teenager._

_Nope. He could have been everything but he certainly had never been clumsy._

Two brothers and Maze welcomed her eagerly. The conversation focused around Amenadiel, whom she didn’t see since weeks. Now he expressed his concern and sympathy about her problems.

“Lucifer told us about the note. That sounds serious, Detective Decker,” he commented.

“That’s fine. At least now I have a sample of writing,” Chloe smiled to the big man. She barely knew him and remembered, that there was a bit of bad blood between him and Lucifer, but there was something in him that made her like him. He was good, in a very simple-minded, child-like manner.

“Decker, if you need to go out, I can accompany you,” chimed in Maze.

Chloe frowned for a moment, not because of Maze’s protectiveness, but at the way how this small words ‘to go out’ sounded. As if Lux was… some separate space, a safe ground, protected from the outside world…

Perhaps it was.

“Thank you, Maze, but I couldn’t let come criminal restrain me,” she replied after a moment. “I need to live normally.”

“Understandable, but better not overdo it oppositely,” replied Amenadiel. “Your life is too unique and meaningful to take accidental risks.”

Now that sounded strange. “Uhm… Thank you?”

“Yeah, you humans are terribly fragile,” commented Maze in her usual, haughty tone and Chloe couldn’t help but smile and shake her head with indulgence.

“Your things are in your room,” stated Lucifer. Chloe half-expected him to be a bit sulky about how she left him earlier, but he didn’t mention it. “If you would need anything, just call me, or Patric.”

“I am sure I will be fine,” replied quickly Chloe, determined to make as little fuss around herself as possible. The first group of early guest entered the club, filling the staircase with loud laughter and the detective took it as a clue to retreat. “If you don’t mind… I’d like to make an early night. I have some files to look through.”

“Fun killer,” snorted Maze. “Just tell that you would come down for a drink later?”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Maze rolled her eyes with irritation, but Lucifer only nodded. “Make yourself at home, Detective.”

Somehow, it sounded warm and sweet.

* * *

“Unique, huh?...” As soon as they were alone, Lucifer turned to his Amenadiel. “Still believing in Father’s plan, big brother?”

“You know that it is true,” Amenadiel shrugged his shoulders, falling into that solemn tone, Lucifer didn’t like that much. “She is unique and so is her destiny. Some minor human scores shouldn’t disturb it. If I knew who threatened her, I would take care of it.”

“Better not, brother, last time you tried to take care of something didn’t end well, mostly for you. Who knows what would rot you away this time,” snorted Lucifer and added quieter: “Besides, when I find out who it is, I will take care of him.”

A hurt expression passed through Amenadiel’s face and for a moment Lucifer felt a bit guilty. Since when his brother became such cry-baby? The devil didn’t mind a little scuffle, he could even let his brother punch him once or twice. It was kind of fun to compare how much strength he lost from his angel times. Though, these martyr’s expressions were boring.

“Say what you want, brother. I am glad you accepted at least part of the Father’s plan. It may be a good beginning,” announced Amenadiel.

For a second, Lucifer saw red. “I did not accept anything,” he growled.

“Than what is she doing here? When you learned that about her miraculous conception, you ran away as if it burnt you!” exclaimed his brother. “You brought a false wife, bordered yourself from everyone, and sunk into this club, and this darkness of yours deeper and deeper! And now it is different, and you are different, I feel it!”

“No!” shouted back Lucifer, all riled up and angry. “I am not!”

The silence that fell after his words made him look around. He noticed Maze watching them from the barstool with vivid interested, eating out the olives meant for drinks. The guests chatting at the nearby table stopped talking, staring at them with slightly scared expressions.

Lucifer struggled to cool down. With a gesture, he invited his brother to a more secluded booth.

“I did not want to stay away. It was she who asked me to leave,” he stated slowly. “Yet now we made up, and she asked for my help. I am glad to help because I am sure half of her troubles are caused by the Father’s meddling. Still, I am not accepting any of His machinations. I tried to stay away to protect her, but it didn’t work, so now I am going to stay close.”

Amenadiel shook his head, looking unconvinced. “That’s a bit twisted, even for you.”

“I know what I am doing,” muttered the devil. _Did he?_

“Lucifer, listen,” Amenadiel tooka deep breath and the devil realized he is about to say something he must have considered for a long time. “I was thinking about it, during these weeks when you were brooding here alone… You have been feeling… worse without her. Why do you expect that Father’s plan, concerning you and Chloe, would mean something… evil for you? Maybe it is a way for you to find happiness.”

Lucifer nervously tapped his fingers on a table. His brother was, indeed, an idiot. Perhaps it was good he lost his powers. Someone so stupid and naive shouldn’t be too strong.

“To start with, it is Father’s plan. It cannot have anything to do with my happiness. Then, well, let’s think. The detective is immune to my influence. In her presence, I can be hurt by human weapons. Since I know her, I died twice, something that didn’t happen to me in millennia. Even Michael wasn’t that effective. So yes, I assume that her destiny means something… dangerous for me.”

“Do you seriously believe that she would hurt you? She cares for you.”

Lucifer involuntarily felt a bit warmer at this sentence. Of course, that she wouldn’t. The detective was too good and too… full of light, of compassion and mercy, to hurt anyone. Even the devil. Even if she knew…

“I know,” he replied. “I know that she wouldn’t. expect rather her to be the cause…”

Amenadiel nodded in understanding. “You mean something like you dying while trying to protect her? Or her seeing accidentally your… other form and shooting before she would realize it was you?”

“Now, you have thought it over, haven’t you?...” Lucifer muttered ironically, but his brother ignored him.

“You said for yourself – you died twice and you are still here. If that was Father’s plan, shouldn’t you remain dead?”

“Perhaps the third time is a charm.”

Lucifer looked around his club, slowly filling with people. In an hour or so he would have his performance. Humans would listen, and cheer him and admire… whisper him his desires and confide little delicious secrets. Tonight, he was not going take any companion upstairs, because of much more precious guest, but still, he would enjoy the mood and feeling of freedom… Actually, he didn’t need anything else.

_Of course, before he met the detective._

Maybe he would return to Hell willingly if she convinced him that it was the right thing to do. He believed now that it was possible. He would go there, for her. He already did it once. 

“I am so sorry, brother,” Amenadiel’s voice interrupted his musings. “You should have more trust. In her, in you. Also in Father.”

“Trust,” Lucifer rubbed his chin, pretending he is considering something, “no, I do now think that trust could lead me to a good place.”

“How would you know? You have never tried.”

Amenadiel stood up and left, his words still sounding in Lucifer’s ears, even if his brother was long gone. Damn his stupid brother, why did he let him have the last word? He should be able to come out with at least a dozen spiteful, venomous retorts.

_Poison of God._

Lucifer shivered.

There could not be trust between Father and him. He was not going to risk it. It meant, that he should now snatch Father’s miracle, pulling her to his side.

Theoretically, it shouldn’t be difficult. Father respected humans’ free will. If the detective decided, she did not partake in anything that could harm him. Father would accept it, freeing her from their game.

Only that it would require a conscious decision from her side. She would need to make her statement being aware of whom she was dealing with.

A devil.

The problem was, that the detective didn’t believe in the devil.

Ah, things were so much easier when humans were more religious. People disappointed by the silence of The One Above surprisingly often fall for the devil, who could be very talkative. Now, so many people were… indifferent. The detective was one of them. She didn’t believe in anything, neither in God nor in Devil. Heaven and Hell for her were abstract concepts. He would need to make her a believer.

He would need to show her.

Lucifer grimaced with disgust, recalling the scared, terrified faces of people tilting back at the sight of the devil, disgust and horror in their eyes as they realized that something, they thought to be no more than a scary story was real… He would never put the detective through it.

And showing her wings would be cheating. As if he suggested that he is closer to the celestial being than he really was. It wouldn’t be sporty.

All right, it wasn’t about being sporty. He simply didn’t know her to know.

He didn’t want to prove her his supernatural side, because he didn’t want to lose her.

If she learnt, that everything he told her was true… if she learnt who he was… most probably, she would run away. No one could blame her for it. And even if he managed to convince her to trust him and stay, it would never be the same between them. She would be guarded and distant in his presence. No silly banter, no jokes, no elbows packed into his ribs, when he overstepped too much… no all this little touches – the shoulder, the arm, the hand… No hugs in need of comfort. No hope for another shy kiss.

Ah, he was so done. He was in love with her and it made the things so much more difficult. Everything he told Mazikeen was true: he desired Chloe so much – and he couldn’t fall in love with her even more, because it would be his downfall. He would be falling down the slippery slope, straight into the trap waiting for him, before he would even notice.

Lucifer sighed, calculating his chances for keeping the safe distance. He noticed Patrick giving him signs, that his performance is about to start, and nodded, to confirm he was ready.

So what he would do with the detective? How would he get her devotion without revealing himself? And also without corrupting her soul in any way that could endanger her future in the Silver City? Each way he could think about would take some shine from her soul…

Lucifer shook his head and headed to the piano. Walking through the dancefloor, he thought he should take care of something else first. Something simpler.

He should take care about the detective’s safety first. After her morning’s little show of defiance, it was obvious, that she was not going to sit safely at Lux, walking out only in his or Maze’s company. The more he would try to stop her, the more eagerly she would like to live ‘as usual’. And what if that human wreck persecuting her would manage to hurt her?

That was unacceptable. He would need to enhance detective’s safety without causing the wave of protests from her side.

This time Lucifer came with an idea very quickly, even before he crossed the dancefloor and reached the piano. An idea that required a trip to a very unpleasant place, but didn’t he just admit that he would go to Hell for her? And once he was already stuck with this bloody feathery appendages, he could as well make use of it.

As for his game with Father and all this Miracle stuff, he would take care about it later.

With that thought, inspired and optimistic, he sat behind the piano.

* * *

The feeling of belonging and safety that embraced Chloe after entering the Lux only increased when she reached Lucifer’s apartment – and ‘her’ room. It was still hotel-like, but luxurious and cosy. Besides, there was no one personal accent: a big bouquet of sunflowers on the desk. Her favourite flowers. The detective smiled, knowing that they are specifically for her.

She never felt more welcome anywhere.

Suddenly she imagined being inside one of these caskets toys: a room, within the apartment, within the Lux building…

She also never felt safer, as if nothing wrong from outside could reach her here.

For a moment, she let herself to revel in this feeling. Usually, she was the one taking care of the others, not seeking comfort in being taken care of. However, it was a luxury not to worry about anything. No school, no work, no duties.

After the long shower, she fell into the bed – the softest and more comfortable she ever slept in – enjoying the feeling of being carefree and safe.

All of this was temporary. All was fragile. The future was insecure. Yet for a few hours, she could stop… struggling. And later?

 _I would have to rebuild,_ she thought, balancing on the edge of sleep and reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, thank you for sticking with me so long. It is a kind of slow-burn story, but we are getting to the point, where things would become more fluffy. There will be also a bit more action. And more supernatural elements.  
> One element, actually.  
> Cheers!


	9. Beware of the dog

After Chloe’s first night in Lucifer’s apartment – actually, it was her second night, but she did not remember much from the first one and besides it wasn’t an occurrence she liked to recall – she woke up, for the first time since weeks, well-rested and optimistic. She also took her time in the shower and then in front of the mirror. The bathroom in the guest room was lovely and comfortable and besides – these were her vacations. No reason why she shouldn’t look nice. She put on her favourite jeans and blouse, old, but in a beautiful green colour, Chloe remembered that Lucifer praised it a few times - not that it mattered, of course, it did not - and brushed her hair one last time, ready to leave her room.

And then she heard some voices in the apartment.

Her heart sunk and all optimism shattered at the realization, that Lucifer must be chatting with his last night’s companion.

The companion who obviously didn’t sleep in the guest room.

The colour of the blouse appeared suddenly more faded than before. Chloe tugged painfully the brush through her hair and put it aside. Very well. She knew what she was signing for. She would now go out, act casually and lead a small talk with some half-naked beauty, who was now probably still floating over the bliss after the best night of her life.

Or maybe it was a man. Somehow, Chloe would prefer that it would be a man.

Her guards high, armed in the all self-control she could muster, the detective left the security of her room and marched to the living area. Still, nothing prepared her for the view she saw there.

There was no debauched guest in the room. The voices came from the television. Lucifer was standing in the room, a bowl with something looking like cereals in hand, and watched television. The casual picture contrasted almost painfully with Chloe’s expectations.

The sounds of barking filled the room and she looked at the screen.

“You are… watching the program about dogs?” she asked with disbelief.

“Oh, Detective, good morning,” Lucifer turned to her as if he had just noticed her. “How did you sleep? If I may comment on your appearance, you look radiant. Breakfast?”

“Uhm… good morning, yes,” the detective corrected her omission. “Are you watching the program about… dogs adopted from the shelter?”

“Yes, poor creatures. It is really… comforting to see how they change while surrounded with proper care and attention. I do not want to say they are not receiving the proper care in shelters, they are fed and…”

“I know how the shelters look like, I volunteered in a one during studies… but are you really… I mean – did you just say: comforting?... Are you really watching…” Chloe shook her head and stopped herself from asking third time the same question. Somehow, she would be less surprised if she had caught him watching porn.

“Is everything fine with you, Detective?” Lucifer looked at her carefully. “You look good, but you seem to have some problems with hearing and concentration. Are you sure that you slept well? Because there is some problem with the bed I would gladly share mine.”

Now that was more like Lucifer.

“No thank you. The bed was perfect,” she said curtly.

“Well then. That’s probably lack of caffeine in your system. I have already made your coffee.”

Lucifer went to the kitchen and Chloe fell on the sofa, watching the program. It was exactly the kind she liked, a bit sappy, each animal finding a happy ending with a loving family. Actually, why was she so surprised? Why shouldn’t Lucifer like it as well?

“Do you like dogs?” she called toward the kitchen. They never talked about animals, in almost two years of their friendship, so she assumed Lucifer didn’t care about them, but perhaps she was wrong? Perhaps she was making too much unjustified assumptions about him.

“I like animals in general,” he replied bringing her coffee and a sandwich looking so beautiful as if it had to be photographed for some high cuisine magazine. “Perhaps except cats, they are too clever.”

“Hey, dogs are clever too!” riposted Chloe a bit vehemently and shook her head with a smile. “Sorry. I got carried over. I adore dogs. We always had one, when I was little, despite mum’s protests. I wanted Trixie to have one too, but we were waiting for her to be big enough so that she would learn to care about it herself. And then, after the divorce… you know, it is not easy to rent an apartment whose owner accepts animals.”

“You like dogs? Lovely,” Lucifer smiled widely. “What races?”

“Mixed ones,” laughed Chloe, She took a sip of her coffee, but the sandwich looked too much like a piece of art to eat it. “Wait, don’t tell me you want to adopt a dog!”

“Very well, I won’t tell it then,” Lucifer smirked with this teasing smile of his. He looked adorable, as usual, but this time Chloe was too invested in the subject to think about it.

“No, seriously. Do you realize that caring for a dog is almost like caring for a child? How many things the animal could destroy in your apartment? Or your clothes? Shoes? You do realize that dogs can chew shoes, right?”

“That depends on a dog, I suppose,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you not eating?”

“Look, the animals from the shelters usually came through a lot,” Chloe shook her head. “They may have some… behaviour problems. Sometimes they are aggressive. They require a lot of work that is not shown in programs as such,” she pointed at the TV. “Besides, purebred dogs are rarely found in the shelters.”

Somehow, she could imagine Lucifer only in the company of some very purebred, very posh dog, like a champion greyhound, or great dane… But, perhaps, she was making assumptions again?...

“Sorry, I just do not see you as a dog-person,” she added, shaking her head.

“Well, if I were to choose an animal to my liking,” Lucifer said in consideration, “it would probably be a snake. Out of this, you know, sense of community. But I guess that snakes would have limited usefulness here. Anyway, I see you do not like your sandwich,” he changed the subject, before Chloe managed to get properly surprise by his words. “I can make you something else. What would you prefer?”

“No, no, it is perfect!” called hastily Chloe, seeing, that he already stood up heading for the kitchen. “Even too perfect. It is a sin to simply eat it.” She took a bite. Of course, it was delicious, even if the taste was a bit surprising. She thought the greenish mousse to be an avocado paste, but it tasted differently, a bit like nuts, or berries… “What’s that?”

“Indian mustard paste,” Lucifer replied so causally, that Chloe refrained from asking further, deciding to google it later.

“Delicious. But you know, you do not have to feed me,” added Chloe, realizing that she was enjoying his cooking quite oft recently. One could get easily used to it. “I am grateful enough for your hospitality, I would not like to impose on you.”

“That’s not a problem. I like cooking,” replied Lucifer stiffly.

He sounded a bit hurt and Chloe suddenly felt terribly stupid. He was trying to be nice to her, and she… probably didn’t sound very polite. She quickly changed the subject and for a moment they talked a bit more about something neutral. Chloe asked Lucifer about something to read and he gladly brought a few of his newest acquisitions. He quickly cheered up, forgetting the awkward moment, but Chloe kept feeling guilty because of her behaviour.

Here she was, making so many unjustified, even humiliating assumptions. Had anyone else in her presence considered adopting a dog, she would applaud it. So why did she start to admonish Lucifer, as if he was a ten-year-old with no sense of responsibility?

And why was she so surprised that he was watching morning TV, like everyone else? Was it so strange? He was behaving normally. She was the one acting weirdly. Just like yesterday after he helped her with packing and securing the apartment, even if it evidently wasn’t his piece of cake. And how worried he was after seeing that note… And she, to be honest, behaved quite irrationally, marching out of this garage…

Why was she always… doubting him? Or perhaps it was something worse, perhaps she was trying to get back for the way he… ended their almost romance? That would be… unfair of her, to accept his friendship and still hold a grudge. Besides, she thought she put it all behind her. Okay, he was a terrible relationship material… and she certainly wasn’t going to step into this river again… but as a friend he was unfailing.

She definitely should spend some time nourishing her friendship with Lucifer. It was worth it.

The detective watched Lucifer bustling around, preparing for her a nice corner on the terrace where she could read, enjoying the splendid view – and thought that she should also come with some nice gesture, to show him, they are fine… and that she is grateful for his help.

* * *

Lucifer let the detective believe he was going to look after the Lux businesses for most of the day. For some time he indeed took care of some mundane formalities concerned with supplies. Why was everything so difficult if one wanted to import officially some joy-bringing substances from another country? Did these retarded clerks could even imagine, how… new and changeable concept were the borders? A couple of decades ago no one would care. Lucifer truly regretted, he didn’t smuggle his wares, as usual, but as long as the detective was under his roof, he wanted to be on his best behaviour. Therefore, instead of smuggling, he decided on a few bribes. The costs were comparable anyway.

Still, after dealing with an import issue, Lucifer went to visit Pierre and learn about the results of his inquiry. The detective would probably want to go with him, after all the case concerned her directly… That’s why the devil preferred not to mention Pierre in her presence at all.

The way Pierre looked at him might have… disturbed the detective’s opinion about his humble person.

Besides, as soon as the devil entered Pierre’s office, he realized that the man did not have good news for him. The middleman handed him back the detective’s ‘killings list’ and shook his head.

“It is very unlikely that the case is about any of these people,” he stated. “I have checked it. There is no such money around their families. They would not be able to pay Duncan.”

“Another dead end it is then,” sighed Lucifer, taking the list. He noticed, that Pierre’s usually neatly manicured nails were ugly bitten. “So what now?”

Pierre looked nervously at his palms. “I don’t know,” he muttered dimly and hastily added: “I tried to find something for you, Mr Morningstar, I really did. I have done all I could. Still, my resources are limited. I am not the FBI. Actually, I even contacted the guy from FBI, and he used their databases and what they got from current surveillance over the organized crime activities in Los Angeles, but there was nothing, that could be of use…” Pierre’s voice faded into mumbling and suddenly stopped. “I am sorry,” he repeated helplessly and didn’t say anything more, only stuck in Lucifer tormented glance. 

Lucifer observed him for a moment, crooking his head. Bitten nails. Red rimmed eyes, greyish complexion – the middleman had a few sleepless nights behind him. The devil narrowed his eyes looking deeper. The aura of the human in front of him was flickering… shattering…

Pierre was at the verge of total breakdown.

Well then, that was understandable. Pierre failed. He wasn’t able to keep his end of the deal with the devil. That could haunt someone’s dreams.

“All right then,” said suddenly Lucifer. “We are even.”

“What?” Pierre squinted his tired, confused eyes. “But I didn’t…”

“I see you have tried,” stated Lucifer stood up. He wanted to leave, the scene that made him feel awkward at least. “I will find another way to trace the culprit. As for your debt, I consider it repaid.”

His words worked magic on Pierre, who almost melted in relief. “I will keep eyes open,” he said with gratitude, accompanying Lucifer to the door. “If I hear something of use, I will let you know, Mr Morningstar. I mean… thank you...”

“Don’t,” replied Lucifer coldly and exited the room.

What exactly for the fiery pits of Hell had he done? He always collected the favours... and he always got what he wanted. What exactly transpired in this room? So what, that Pierre was nervous? It was not a reason to let him off the hook. He should push him a bit more, or at least leave him hanging…

 _He would break down, he would be useful anyway,_ consoled himself Lucifer. _I only made a rational decision. No need to play with a spoiled toy._

That made him feel a bit better. Still, lost in thoughts, he walked to the parking just to realize that his Corvette wasn’t there. This time, to avoid the terrible traffic jam he stuck into last time, he simply flew and now he would have to fly back.

 _Splendid,_ he muttered to himself through the clenched teeth, looking for a secluded place to spread his wings. _I should have summoned Pierre to the Lux. I should have found him a proper punishment for his incompetence. Instead..._

Instead, he was flying through the city on Angels’ wings and being generous.

 _It is all Father’s trap,_ he thought customarily, but this time his irritation faded quickly, giving place to worry. He counted on Pierre’s connections. Now another chance for spotting the rascal pestering Chloe failed. The criminal, impudent enough to leave a threatening note in her home, remained elusive. The devil felt he needed to take some additional precaution concerning the safety of his favourite detective. He has already found some promising solution and even started to set the plan in motion, but… that specific solution required… disturbing the balance between planes… between the Earth and the Beyond… and even if the scale expected imbalance appeared insignificant, Lucifer knew that such occurrences always have consequences.

_Just look what happened to Amenadiel._

But perhaps the detective would be now more inclined to stay in the safety of the Lux? This morning, she didn’t say anything about going outside or continuing the investigation on her own. She even asked him to borrow her something to read and he was more than happy to bring her some of his newest purchases. He also prepared her a very cosy corner on the terrace, tempting with undisturbed peace, magnificent view and her favorite fruits and flowers... and no one could equal him, when it came to the temptation.

Hopefully, she spent the day reading. Maybe there would be no need for extraterrestrial help.

* * *

When Lucifer, after using his wings to transfer himself straight to his private parking in the Lux – he would have to ask Patric to clear the recordings from the security cameras, without watching them first, of course – took the lift to his apartment, he was overjoyed to find the detective there – though a bit surprised to find her in the kitchen, of all places.

She was cooking.

“I made dinner,” she announced, smiling. “You have been too kind to me. It is only fair that I do something for you too. Oh, don’t make such face!” she chuckled at his expression. “I will not poison you. I know how to cook. It won’t be that fancy, as your cooking, but you will like it, I promise.”

Lucifer cast a glance at the content of the pans. Pasta with… something.

The detective was a terrible cook, really. One of these people who think it is enough to put the ingredients into the pot and stir to make a sauce. Or who use dried herbs from these awful paper bags, that had less taste then ash in Hell. Where did she even found them? Certainly not in his kitchen, she must have done some shopping… The devil was about to point at the windowsill where he kept pots with all fresh herbs one could find necessary in the reasonably advanced kitchen but stopped in the last moment.

He saw enough domestic catastrophes in hell loops to know, he should tread carefully now.

“Just as I said before, it is nothing fancy, but…” the detective’s voice sounded now a bit defensively and her good humour seemed to falter a little.

“That was very nice of you, Detective,” he replied hastily. No, it was not a good moment to speak about the herbs. Or to point out that he would be much happier if she allowed him to cook the dinner for both of them. And what when she asks him, how he likes it? For a moment, he seriously considered lying. It wouldn’t even be a full lie. After all, he loved the gesture.

Suddenly, he got struck by a happy idea. As long as the dish is still in the pot, it can be saved.

“Why don’t you let me set the table, Detective, while you rest for a while?”

“Sure, I could change,” nodded Chloe, pointing at her slightly stained blouse.

As soon as she left, Lucifer quickly rummaged the shelves for the herb oils, spices and cheese. The time was scarce, but, au contraire to the detective, he was very good at cooking – real cooking. So good, that such a challenge was even funny.

A few minutes later, his efforts were rewards by the self-satisfied smile that appeared on the detective’s face, when she tasted the dish.

“It is even better than I expected. Very good really,” she observed. “I probably shouldn’t compliment myself, but… I noticed you looked doubtful at least, but you have to admit that result is not that bad.”

“You are absolutely right, it is delicious,” nodded Lucifer. The truth tasted this time very good indeed. “I was only surprised. I had no idea… I mean, I saw your fridge, Detective, and…”

“You mean all that half-products and canned soups?” the detective laughed again. She didn’t appear offended. She was looking him in the eye and smiling. “Usually, I don’t have time for anything else. Maybe I should use this free time to practice? In the last years, all I did were some baby dishes, easy for a sitter to warm up and serve to Trixie. Now I could learn something new, more advanced… and then I would also teach Trixie to try new tastes. She is all for junk food, you know? But don’t worry,” she added hastily, “I will start my big cooking experience when I will be back at my apartment. I am not going to make more mess in your place.”

“Oh, you can do all the mess you want, when you want,” assured her hastily Lucifer, feeling a bit guilty. The detective still didn’t know that she would not be returning so quickly to her apartment. He did. Her gracious, so rewarding presence here was arranged thanks to the… manipulation

“Speaking of which, I learnt one of your secrets today,” stated the detective.

“Did you?...” asked Lucifer, frowning with… no, not with anxiety, because the devil never got scared or anxious, but… What, for the ashes of Hell, could she have found? Did he forgot to throw away some of the wings, he kept cutting off a few weeks ago? Did she found some troubling artefact? Or an old photo, or recording, proving that his existence escapes the rules of time? Or maybe – the devil felt the sweat gathering on his forehead – she learnt that he was in contact with the owners of her apartment?

“The cleaning lady,” stated the detective, unaware of his inner turmoil. “I saw who is keeping this place so clean.”

“Oh, yes,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, stifling the sigh of relief. “She is a treasure.”

“I barely understood her, and I thought I could speak Spanish. Where is she from?”

“Costa Rica,” replied Lucifer absently, feeling the tension retreating from his body. Now he was ashamed with his reaction. However, there were just so many things the detective didn’t know about…

That’s how it should be. She was, after all, a mortal, and mortals shouldn’t look too deep into celestial affairs.

On the other hand, she was also a Miracle and their fates were entwined, thanks to the manipulation of his Father. Perhaps it was… unfair of him, to keep all the cards so close to his chest?... Perhaps he should have… speak with her?...

No. He couldn’t.

He didn’t want to lose her.

Not now, not when she was sitting in front of him, smiling to him… She wanted to show him her… friendship. Fondness. She wanted to show him, that she cared. He felt it clearly and basked in the warmth of her feelings. 

It was a rare occurrence, that someone would try to please him out of sheer sympathy, not out of lust, or fear… And never before had he cared for someone like he cared for her. He tried every drug known to mankind, but nothing was so intoxicating like… reciprocated affection.

And perhaps if it was all fragile and based on a lie, but Lucifer was old enough to know, that sometimes a few meaningful moments are worth more than empty decades.

He couldn’t lose her. He needed her close, he needed her warmth and her… light.

No, wait. He needed her to stay with him, to protect her. He didn’t want to leave her on a pray of her unnamed enemy, that’s why he manoeuvered her to move in. He cared for her safety, not for his… needs.

Actually, no. He wanted to gamble with Father. To pay him back for manipulating him and the detective. To snatch the Miracle from the Father’s influence. That was the initial aim of starting all this, had he forgotten?...

“Lucifer? Is everything fine?” the detective looked at him with concern. “It is not like you, to be so silent. Is it because of... this?...” she gestured at the table between them. “I just wanted to…” her voice trailed off and whatever she was thinking about, it was obvious, that her insecurities were taking better of her again. 

“Everything’s fine, Detective,” Lucifer assured her hastily. “I do appreciate the gesture, even if your time is certainly too precious for such trivial activities. I just… I had someone check your list, Detective. You know, the killings list. And it turned out to be another dead end.”

“I told you so,” she nodded and added in a much lighter tone: “But, hey, trivial activities? And that comes from the guy who claims he likes cooking? Besides, it didn’t take me that much time. I also visited the precinct?”

“You did? Why?”

“Well, I thought that I would try to… bait the one who is after me. You know, in case they lost my trail after I moved in here. So, I went to the precinct and walked around for a while, and then Ella and I went for coffee… We were sitting in the front tables, so surely if someone was keeping eye on a precinct, would notice us,” the detective related happily, obviously very satisfied with herself.

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment, fearing that they would reflect a Hellfire that burst in his soul. The detective was truly his Father’s Miracle. Only someone with a touch of Heaven could bring him into such violent despair with a smile so serene.

What if that human filth, that lowly miscreant who dared to pester her, would decide to make his move, when she was alone, without him or Maze?... Her enemy was obviously some criminal, he could have shot her down, there, in front of her precinct.

She could have been killed and Lucifer would have never seen her again. The devil’s heard clenched with an unknown feeling, painful and so intense that it took his breath away.

“Lucifer?...”

“I think you took an unnecessary risk, Detective,” he said, with all willpower forcing himself to speak calmly. “We spoke about making a stakeout in Lux, why don’t we stick to the plan? It would be much safer to… bait your enemy in… controlled environment.”

“I know. But, you know, these guys must be able to trace me in Lux,” replied the detective matter-of-factly. “Besides, the stakeout would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, Ella and I are going to… you know, hit the town. A girls’ night. And we are taking Maze with us,” she added, forestalling all the protests Lucifer wanted to voice.

“Great idea,” he said only. At least now he got a reply for his… hesitations. His priorities were set. Ensuring her safety was the most important. He would concentrate on it and… deal with everything else later.

“I may return a bit late,” she warned. “You sure, you do not mind? I won’t… disturb you? Or, you know, I can enter through the stairs from Maze’s room. That’s why I won’t be… passing through… this room,” she awkwardly pointed at the living room they were sitting in.

Lucifer had no idea what she was talking about and why she was, all of the sudden, blushing and bubbling, but one thing was certain: it was good, that she would leave the penthouse tonight for a few hours. He needed an empty apartment, to set his plan in motion.

No matter the balance between the planes, if the detective was going to behave with such… back of consideration, he would need some extra help.

Besides, if he was already using his celestial wings on a regular basis, he could also use something… from the other side of the Great Scale.

* * *

On the evening, when the detective left for her girl’s night, Lucifer got more serious, stretching his wings with hesitation. What he was about to do, was more than a simple flight over the shore or the outing with an errand.

This time it was about crossing the planes. Besides, the last two times he visited Hell, he was dead, and such experiences leave certain distaste.

Though, the first principle of ruling Hell was never to be afraid. There was only one step from feeling fear to showing it, and showing fear in Hell… simply wouldn’t do. That’s why Lucifer shrugged all his doubts away with one flap of the wings and – with all bravery he could muster – dived straight to the lower plane, into fires and ashes of Hell.

Hell actually barely had a fixed physical dimension. It was more about metaphors. Metaphors of guilt and punishment, imprisonment and loss. Behind the doors, the realities were continuously changing, and in front of them – the maze of paths was in a constant fluid motion, altering the distances altering in the mockery of the laws of physics.

For a moment, Lucifer gave in to the wave of vertigo, letting himself to drift together with fluid dimensions. Then he fixed the reality around him. Up and down. Paths and walls above them. The directions. In a distance of a few yards around him, the underworld stood still, in a form of a dark, stony labyrinth.

Then he felt the well-known, sudden surge of power floating through his veins. His domain recognized him. Sad and cruel as it was, it was his and his only. Perhaps Amenadiel was right, perhaps indeed even Hell had some qualities… like loyalty… For a second, the devil’s heart clenched with something close to compassion for this dimension, hopeless and unloved by anyone.

Immediately they all froze in confusion, both Lucifer and Hell around him because compassion was not the feeling one should bring to Hell.

The devil cleared his throat and strode forward. The sooner he would be done here, the better. He willed the dimensions around him bend and shorten, bringing him in the vicinity of his goal in a few steps. He could call the one he needed with his thoughts, but through the ages, much of the earthly customs rubbed off on him… and consequently, some of them rubbed off on Hell.

So, the devil did something very human. He whistled.

And the beast replied, dashing toward him in a frenzied hurry.

“Well, hello, you ugly little slattern,” said Lucifer friendly to the creature that was almost as high as he. “Long time no see, huh?”

The beast howled with reproach, jumping on him, panting and scowling. The open muzzle filled with sharp long teeth for a moment hovered in front of Lucifer’s face. He barely managed to change into devil’s form, that was more resilient to the acid in the creature’s saliva.

“Well, well. That’s enough. You certainly didn’t miss me that much?” muttered Lucifer, leaning back to avoid the lick of the wet tongue. “Enough. Easy.”

What looked like the attack of the demon was no more than the outburst of joy carried by the Hell’s biggest hound.

After the devil’ reproach, the beast fell down and, still panting joyously, started to lick his shoes. Lucifer rolled his eyes and said farewell to the pair of his Louboutins. Still, that was a ritual he had to suffer through. That’s how the beast showed him its submission.

The hellhound looked more like a very agile bear, or big tiger, than a dog. All dark fur, red eyes and white, very sharp teeth: it was a creature of humans’ nightmares – nightmares, that, by the way, were based on their few common excursions to the earthly plane in the past ages. However, it was rather dog-like from the character, harbouring the unwavering attachment to Lucifer since its creation.

The devil, in another unexpected wave of emotions, thought that perhaps it was quite mean to leave behind the creature so devoted to him.

Quickly, he frowned and shook his head. If he started to care about the Hell and its creatures, it would mean that some part of his Father’s plan was working. Of course, he did not. He only liked this one, for his loyalty.

He sat down on the ground – the trousers were destroyed anyway – and allowed the beast to put the head on his knees.

“I am taking you up there again,” stated the devil, nuzzling the furry head. “For a bit longer, this time.”

The hound barked excitedly. He understood what was being talked to him. He had almost human’s intelligence and telepathic abilities. Now he joyously sent to Lucifer’s mind pictures of chases and hunts, the smell of fresh blood, screams of prey…

“No, no,” the devil shook his head. “These time it will be something requiring more finesse. You will have to learn a few new things. And you would require a new shape,” he added, looking at the beast critically. “You cannot show yourself like this up there. Humans are all about appearances,” the devil smirked ironically and added, perhaps with more spite than intended: “Funny thing, considering that their glamour passes with time, inevitably, even if slowly.”

The hound, however, was more interested in his future shape. He crooked his head and projected the image of horrid Chimera-like creature with bat wings.

“Nope. Nothing like this.” Lucifer shook his head and imagined the picture of big shepherd dog.

The beast appeared disappointed but didn’t protest, when the devil ran his palms over its spine, slowly reshaping his form.

It would not work on Earth, but here, using Hell’s energy, he could shape the demons’ bodies in any form he liked. That’s where Mazikeen’s face came from when she demanded more terrifying appearance, and that’s how she regained the smoothness of her cheek before he took her up with him. Now, he could change the hound into the form that would make him useful.

On the morning, he observed the detective watching that TV program, trying to read from her mimic, which dogs she fancied most. Taking into consideration what she said, and the fact, that it had to be a big race, potentially useful in combat, Lucifer decided at the sturdy shepherd-like mongrel.

“And we are done,” he commented, admiring his work. “Lovely.”

The dog whined, tapping nervously the paws on the ground. _Small!_ came the desperate message.

“You will get used to it. Besides, your strength is unchanged.”

The hellhound-shepherd started to jump around, trying its new form against the boulders, crushing much bigger stones with his jaws and claws. In the meantime, the devil stood up and stretched. The energy of Hellfire still circled in his veins, the intoxicating feeling of all-consuming power of his domain at his disposal… For a moment, Lucifer let himself revel in it, in all that pain, and filth, and despair, hateful and hated and yet, in some strange sense, alluring…

The second principle of ruling the Hellfire was to be able to admit, that you like, how it burns.

The third one – to resist its temptation.

Lucifer opened his wings and the Hell froze around him, admiring the testimony of celestial grace, forever lost and forever desired.

“No use to get sappy,” the devil said to the ashy air around and turned to the dog: “Pop off.”

The dog jumped up, misbalancing awkwardly, unused to his new form, but Lucifer caught him and pressed closer, grimacing at the sound of the claws tearing through his jacket. With a few flaps of the wings, he raised them both to the higher, merrier plane.

* * *

“Lie down and behave,” muttered Lucifer once they landed on the terrace of his apartment, striding toward the bathroom to wash the smell and sadness of Hell away.

He stopped at the threshold. “On the second thought, come here. We would need to wash you as well. No shelter on Earth lets the dog smell of ash and sulfur.”

He never told the detective he wanted to take the dog from the shelter, but she made her assumptions and now she would stick to it. Lucifer shook his head, feeling a little guilty. But was it his fault that humans were so stubborn attached to the explanations easiest for them to accept?

 _Whatever_. Non-lying was a policy strict enough. He didn’t need to be oversensitive about details.

The hellhound had at least one feature in common with his master: he liked being clean. The creature bore the bathe with un-hellish patience. Once they were done, Lucifer looked at his work critically.

He did well with this one.

It was a very pretty dog. And after the bath in his shampoo he was just… fluffy.

Suddenly, Lucifer thought that Beatrice would like him.

“All right, then,” he said, clearing his thought, to mask a moment of strange weakness that caught him at the thought of the detective’s spawn. “I brought you here with a reason.”

The hound licked his feet in gesture of obedience.

“Come,” Lucifer led him to the guest room and pointed him at Chloe’s clothes discarded at the armchair. “Learn the smell. These are the things of human you are going to guard in my absence.”

The dog moved to the armchair, sniffing carefully and the devil cringed with sudden discomfort. What would the detective say, if she knew, that he let the hellhound, the barghest, as her ancestors would name him, roam through her belongings?... Oh, but what would she say if she knew, whose hospitality she accepted?...

 _She won’t know,_ the devil promised himself.

The dog barked shortly, signalling he was ready.

 _I will guard._ The beast sent the pictures of his experience in guarding uncountable Hell’s prisoners: scared cries, the smell of blood, limbs weakening between the powerful jaws…

“No, no like this!” called quickly Lucifer, realizing the mistake he just made, being too vague in his orders. “Like something… precious.”

The hound crooked his head, not comprehending.

Lucifer sighed. The only precious things in Hell were intriguing souls to torture. Words were not effective, so he concentrated on the picture of Chloe, trying to show how he felt about her: unique, worth every effort, respected...

The dog barked once again in agreement.

 _I know. The Queen,_ he communicated.

Lucifer threw his arms in the air in exasperation. Stupid, simple creature. He should have known that earthly relations would be too complicated for that dumb beast to follow. 

Though, on the other hand, that… awkward metaphor would do the job. The dog would protect Chloe and respect her. So, why complicate simple things? Lucifer finished his dramatic gesture waving his hand.

“Very well, the queen,” he muttered dimly. “Hope you got it now, in that ash-filled blockhead of yours.”

He turned back and returned to the living room, the dog following him close behind “Now, you need to learn some rules. To start with – no mauling. No ripping throats and no limb tearing, unless absolutely necessary,” Lucifer ignored the outraged whine of the dog and poured himself a generous doze of whiskey. “No old funny business with the glamour. There won’t be any urban legends about the black hound roaming through the streets of Los Angeles. And definitely no haunting...”


	10. The urge to jump

Lucifer didn’t sleep much during that night when he brought the hellhound to Earth. Not entirely sure, how his new companion would behave during his first meeting with the detective, the devil preferred not to oversleep her return.

He heard her come back in the early hours of the morning. At the first sound of someone entering the penthouse, the dog tensed, all his muscles strained in attention.

“Easy. It is her. I will introduce you in the morning,” muttered the devil, blinking to shake off the sleepiness. He put the hand on the dog’s neck, to calm him and to keep him in place, just in case.

The detective was probably trying to keep quiet, but still was making a noise like a cohort of Roman legionaries. What’s more, Mazikeen was accompanying her to her room. Lucifer, suddenly all awake, straightened and tensed just like a hound by his side, listening whether the insolent Lilim would try… something with the detective... If so, he could as well make a second trip to Hell this night, this time to bring certain the wayward demon back...

After all, no one would accost his intoxicated guests under his roof.

Luckily, after a few quite innocent giggles, the detective – alone – entered her room and locked the door.

Mazikeen, however, lingered and after a while made a few cautious steps into the apartment. Lucifer gestured to the dog to lie down and exited the bedroom to meet her.

“Something happened?” he whispered.

“I feel the presence from Below,” she replied curtly.

“Ah, yes,” Lucifer relaxed, finally understanding her behaviour. She felt another demon in her vicinity. In such case, it was very thoughtful of her to accompany the detective. “No worries. It is my doing.”

He summoned the hound and Mazikeen grinned, immediately recognizing the beast under the glamour. “It is you, old scamp!”

The hound, in greeting, jumped and friendly tried to snap at her tight. Mazikeen, equally friendly, kicked him in the ribs.

“Cool,” she said to Lucifer. “He will be of use. Just what did you do with him? He looks like a human pet.”

“It is not like you are wearing your armour anymore,” retorted Lucifer.

“I do not need the armour to be me,” Mazikeen stretched herself with a yawn. “Well, I am hitting the bed now. That was a Hell of an evening.”

“And who could say that two frail women can wear down the demon.”

“Linda was there too,” commented the demoness in a tone, he never heard by her before. It was almost… girlish.

“Was she? Mazikeen, are you blushing?...” Lucifer crooned in delight.

“Butt out, Lucifer,” the demon puffed with irritation, evidently masking embarrassment. “Or go to bed. And flights of angels may sing to thy rest,” she snorted mockingly, and turned on the spot, heading for her room.

“Huh, we would like to see any angel try to disturb us, wouldn’t we?” muttered Lucifer to the dog, returning to his bedroom.

* * *

On the next morning, Lucifer waited patiently for the detective to wake up. He thought about bringing her coffee to her bed, but refrained for the sake of modesty, remembering, that she had a custom of throwing away her clothes and sleeping naked, when intoxicated.

Though, on the other hand, perhaps it was an argument for bringing her coffee to the room...

No. Definitely not. It was all a trap… and so on.

The morning slowly turned into the forenoon, when the detective, definitely more dishevelled then yesterday, emerged from her room.

“Oh, hi,” she said at his sight. “I didn’t expect that you would be still… Oh my God, you did it!... You have a dog!...” she squealed, for a moment sounding almost like her teenage character from Hot Tube High School.

“Nope, He had nothing to do with it. Au contraire, I’m sure He objects,” muttered Lucifer, but the detective didn’t pay attention.

“Oh, he is so beautiful,” she gushed. “It is a he, right? Such a beautiful dog.”

She kneeled on the floor, in front of the hound and Lucifer felt the hound tense its muscles. _Stay put_ , he ordered.

“But he looks very scared. New place, right? You poor thing.” The detective reached her hand to the dog’s side, but without touching the animal.

 _What am I to do?_ asked the hound, confused.

 _I don’t know,_ replied the devil and asked aloud: “What are you doing, Detective?”

“Why, trying to let him know me. He looks very shy.”

Shy. Right.

 _Maybe sniff her hand? Just no teeth,_ proposed Lucifer and the hound slowly shifted his head toward Chloe, sniffing cautiously.

“You see? It is working,” beamed the detective. “May I pet him?”

“Certainly.” _Let her touch you._

The detective gently stroked the animal’s side, running her hands through its thick fur. “Oh you poor thing,” she repeated, caressing the dog. “So nervous. Everything’s new, right?”

Lucifer for a moment got overwhelmed by the avalanche of contradictory emotions transmitted by the dog. Shock, strangeness, awkwardness. And behind it – unknown, the most confusing pleasure. After all, no human before caressed the Hellhound.

Actually, no one ever caressed the hellhound, apart from a few quick pats the devil gave the beast. Nothing comparing to the caring touch of the detective’s hands.

“Do not worry. You will be fine,” continued Chloe, nuzzling the dog with growing confidence. “You are such a lovely dog. Lovely and brave. You will be fine,” she finally moved her hands to his head and scratched behind his ear.

The hound trembled, closing his eyes, his confusion palpable, not only to the devil but also to the human petting him.

“He is terribly tense,” observed the detective. “What’s his story? I mean, what did they tell you about him in the shelter? He comes from the shelter, right?...” she added, looking at Lucifer when he didn’t reply immediately.

“Oh, Detective. Let’s just say, I brought him from terrible place,” replied Lucifer and, as usual, the enigmatic answer was enough. Chloe nodded.

“So, they should have prepared you. Where does he come from? Was he abused? Or aggressive? Any health problems?” she looked at him expectantly and frowned. “Oh, right, let me guess – you simply came to the shelter, smiled and they gave you the dog you wanted, just like that.”

“I didn’t have to smile.”

“Please, Lucifer…” the detective shook his head. “It does not surprise me, but now you are absolutely unprepared. We would have to start from the scratch, right?”

“From the scratch?...”

“Do you have anything for him? I mean… Accessories? Medicine? Fodder at least?... Oh my God, you washed him in your shampoo!” the detective exclaimed sniffing around the dog.

“Actually I did, but believe me that my Father…”

“Dogs cannot be washed in the human’s shampoo. They need special cosmetics,” sighed the detective sounding a bit dramatically. She stood up. “All right then. I will go and buy a few most necessary accessories. And some fodder, to start with. Of course, we would need to take him to the vet, to check on him and set the most suitable diet.”

“I would arrange the visit,” commented Lucifer quickly, remembering that no vet should ever examine this creature. “Breakfast?...” he reached for coffee and sandwich waiting for the detective at the counter of the bar.

“Just coffee, thank you,” the detective took the mug and after a few gulps put it back on the counter, all her thoughts occupied by the dog. “Probably he would need some vaccines,” she muttered. “How old is he?”

“Well, uhm…”

“Right. You really should contact the shelter again and get the details. And he why he is so tense? This might be because of the new place... He may be in shock, perhaps…But perhaps we should consult the dog behaviourist? I knew a girl a few years ago, she was quite good, I would try to contact her.”

She strode to her room and reappeared in the second, with her the handbag.

“Detective?...”

“Shopping,” she replied only, heading to the elevator. “Don’t let him go to the terrace. I think he could jump over the barrier.” And with that, she was gone.

Lucifer looked behind her with slight bewilderment. For the first time, he was ready to give just a very tiny bit of justice to the Douche. If the detective behaved with equal… engagement when their spawn was born… and probably she did because humans tend to care for their offspring’s even more than for their pets… then Daniel could, indeed, feel a bit overwhelmed.

Of course, what was overwhelming for a meagre human man, the devil found just endearing.

And it was such a relief, to see the detective beaming with her usual energy again. Perhaps that was just what she needed, to shake off that… sadness, that was gnawing her.

“It seems that you just made the first good deed in your existence,” he commented jokingly to the dog.

 _That was nice. That touching,_ repeated the hound, apparently still hazed.

“Yes, I know,” sighed Lucifer a bit wistfully.

* * *

Chloe was overexcited. It was not so much for the dog – the shepherd so big would be better at some farm with a large garden than in the top floor city apartment.

She was so enthusiastic because she finally could do something for Lucifer.

He obviously needed her now, and situations, when Lucifer needed anyone, were so rare… He had everything, and what he didn’t have, he could get through his web of favours or just by asking. He was usually the one helping. Providing her with information and advice, using his connections and his… talents. Opening the door, literally and figuratively.

When she could do something for him, she felt more… well, on equal footing. Chloe recalled with a satisfied smile how she managed to save Lux from demolition, she was still very proud of it. The one and only case when she could do something, whereas Lucifer was helpless.

Chloe’s smile faded when she recalled how after that Lucifer invited her for supper… and didn’t appear in the restaurant… and then apologized… and that started all this… emotional catastrophe between them…

No. She needed to concentrate on the dog.

Chloe quickly bought what she considered necessary and added a few toys – certainly, this lovely dog would use some pampering. On her way back, she stepped into a small grocery, she discovered yesterday near Lux. Yesterday, cooking was a pleasure and perhaps – despite her earlier reservations about not making mess anymore – she would repeat it today?

She totally blamed Lucifer’s kitchen for her new-found culinary enthusiasm. Earlier, she thought that he either had no kitchen at all and lived on whiskey and deliveries, or it was a top-modern place, furnished with chrome and steel and equipped in all the possible electronic gadgets. Instead, it was surprisingly old-fashioned, as if Lucifer preferred the traditional, manual tools. Even Chloe in her modest kitchen had more automatic machines. All that mortars, stone bowls and hand grinders had a special charm, that reminded Chloe about her grandmother’s kitchen. She barely knew the old lady who deceased long ago, when Chloe was still a little girl, leaving barely any memories, except the old fashioned kitchen and home-cooked meals.

She would never expect to chase a trace of these memories in Lucifer’s apartment, of all places.

 _And what face would he make if I told him that he reminded me about my grandma,_ though Chloe with a smirk, returning the Lux.

From a distance, she saw Amenadiel heading to visit his brother. She called him, but he was already disappearing in the elevator. With all these shopping bags, Chloe had no chance to catch up with him, so she waited patiently for the elevator to get down again and take her up.

As soon as she reached the penthouse, she heard the dog growling.

And how he was growling! Terrible sound, that made Chloe’s insides clench and, despite her better judgement, something in her heart shifted, a primal instinct warning her to run...

The shepherd definitely had problems with aggression. He was in attack position: tight muscles, bristled fur, bared teeth… all the wild, tense fury directed at Amenadiel.

 _Of course, too many new experiences for one day,_ she realized. _Poor dog._ _Amenadiel shouldn’t have come today._

“You have chosen bad moment as usual,” said Lucifer, as if mirroring her thoughts. None of the brothers noticed her yet, the sounds made by the dog drowning out the signal of the elevator. Of course, Lucifer didn’t know how to handle the situation, keeping the dog by the fur on his back, like a kitten. It was surprising, that the dog didn’t attack him yet, concentrating on Amendadiel.

It was also surprising that Lucifer was evidently exerting himself to keep the dog in place, while with his unwonted strength he should have no problems with it.

And Amenadiel, like the last idiot, instead of leaving the room, stood glued to the spot, staring at the dog, his eyes wide open.

“Brother, what have you done?” he whispered.

“I think it is obvious. Now go. You have enough of the… Host left in you, to vex him,” snorted Lucifer, struggling with the dog. “Come back later, when I manage to adapt him.”

“Adapt? Return the beast to its place immediately!”

Chloe froze in outrage, forgetting her fear. Amenadiel was a bit weird sometimes, but… how dared he?... If his brother wanted to have a dog, it was not his business to start with!

“What, is meddling with the planes reserved to you?” retorted Lucifer vehemently. “It was fine when you brought back that scoundrel from a deathbed, but I cannot have a friendly soul by my side?”

“It was not fine, I made mistake and paid for it!” exclaimed Amenadiel, against all logic stepping closer to the dog, who almost broke away from Lucifer’s hands. “And this creature does not have a soul!”

Chloe saw red. Amenadiel was not strange, he was one of these puffed-up sanctimonious pricks, who think that animals are lesser than humans, because of… ah, whatever!...

“Just how can you say something like this!” she called, striding forward. “Animals can be as devoted and loving as people if not better! They have feelings, they can get attached and they are faithful.” Without thinking, she stepped between them, shielding the dog from Amenadiel.

“Animals, yes… but Chloe, this beast…” the big man stuttered, evidently startled. “Move back. It is not safe…”

“I loved your speech, Detective, but my stupid brother also has a point. Step aside,” called to her Lucifer, trying to pull the dog back. The animal barely moved.

“You see? You do not control it!” his brother snapped at him.

“Just stop! It is not a beast. It is not it,” stressed Chloe. “It is just a poor, confused animal. He attacked you because he doesn’t know you. The new environment overwhelmed him.”

She looked at the dog. His posture was rigid, all tensed muscles and bared teeth… But he stopped growling. And he looked at her with such… conscious expression. He must have recognized her. Good boy, he simply needed friends…

“Oh, you poor thing,” she sighed, turning to the dog.

“Chloe, don’t!...” Amenadiel reached for her shoulder, to stop her.

He made a mistake, apparently.

The dog, breaking free with an unnatural growl, attacked. A smudge of fur and teeth passed by Chloe launched at Amenadiel’s hand.

“Down! Now!” yelled Lucifer, grasping the dog, they both falling on the floor.

Chloe froze, the violence around her happening too quickly to react. She expected to hear a shout of pain from one of the brothers or both, or maybe even to feel the sharp pain herself… but nothing like this happened. In a few seconds, Lucifer, kneeling on the floor, kept the dog by the skin on his back again, looking in his eyes.

“Enough!... My brother meant no harm to her,” he almost hissed and, quite violently, shoved animal onto the floor, standing up.

“Hey, don’t!” Chloe shouted at him. Her voice shivered, because, well, it’s been weeks since she saw Lucifer snap like this and his outbursts were always quite terrifying, but still – no one would abuse the animal in her presence. “He didn’t bite you, did he?” she asked almost hostile.

“He would never bite him,” Amenadiel snorted, pointing at his brother. “But this doesn’t mean he is not dangerous for the others. You saw for yourself.”

“That was not his fault,” Chloe said quickly. Of course, none of the two brothers had experience with animals. They simply didn’t understand. They would think that the dog was aggressive. Oh, and what if Lucifer after this incident would want to return the dog?... Patience was not his strong side.

“That was not his fault,” she spoke hectically. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have… I don’t know. He just got confused. Don’t give him back. Look, he is calmer now.”

She kneeled near the dog, even if Lucifer tilted as if trying to stop her, and reached to him running her fingers through the thick fur. The animal was shivering, the tension still straining his muscles and tendons… And yet, under her touch his tremors slowly subsided, the posture relaxed. Suddenly, the dog heavily lied down by her knees and pushed his head into her hands, demanding caresses. Chloe couldn’t help but smile, scratching him behind the ear, like in the morning.

“You remembered that, right? And who would say that you are such a cuddler?” she looked up at Lucifer, repeating almost pleadingly. “He would learn. Don’t give him back.”

“I do not intend to,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders, again in control and even somehow pleased. “Brother? Do you see?”

“Yes,” replied Amenadiel, shaking his head in disbelief. “And he was protecting her. Well, in such case… whatever works, I guess. Maybe that’s how it should be.”

Chloe thought his words were a bit strange. As a matter of fact, both he and Lucifer said a lot of strange things before they saw her. She didn’t pay attention earlier, but…

The sound of quick steps stopped her from asking the question.

“I felt I might be needed,” announced Maze, entering the living room. “Who is the troublemaker?”

“Not the dog,” replied quickly Chloe, instinctively wrapping her arms around the animal, to prevent him from the next attack, if he got nervous at the presence of another stranger. However, the dog, apparently calmed down, only pushed himself deeper onto her lap, laying more comfortably.

“I see,” said slowly Mazikeen, looking at her with a puzzled expression. “Wow. Cool.”

Chloe felt awkward. She was sitting at the floor, with that quite heavy dog on her knees, and the others kept standing over her and staring as if they saw something strange.

So what? She always had way with dogs.

“It is just… our new… companion got a bit stressed with Amenadiel’s presence,” Lucifer was the first one to break the silence. “Hard to blame him, to be honest. You should work on your image, Brother, after all. Some of your fashion choices are truly appalling. Anyway, once we are done with the introductions and our four-legged friend is so safely confined in Detective’s arms… tell us, Brother, what did you came for?”

Amenadiel looked around, appearing a bit uncomfortable. Maybe Chloe was wrong, but it seemed that he kept his eyes on Maze a bit longer… and his discomfort increased.

“Never mind. We will speak about it on some other occasion,” he replied only. “That day has been eventful enough.”

* * *

Actually, the rest of the day was rather uneventful, once Amenadiel and Maze left. Chloe took care of the dog and his accessories, washing and preparing them for the first use. Lucifer tagged along, bringing her necessary utensils. He was unusually quiet and helpful. He didn’t say it, but Chloe felt he was grateful for her intervention. Really what was Amenadiel thinking?... The more Chloe recalled the situation, the more irritated she felt with his behaviour.

The only incident concerned the cleaning lady, who visited the apartment in the afternoon and started to comment something very loudly in barely understandable Spanish. Lucifer only waved his hand in dismissal, saying it was not important. From what Chloe suspected, the cleaner was surprised seeing the same female face in Lucifer’s apartment second day in a row. As a matter of fact, it was even funny.

Lucifer arranged the visit in some animal clinic and Chloe contacted her friend, who was a dog behaviourist. Definitely, this dog needed therapy. 

She also called Trixie, and told her all about it – excluding the incident with Amenadiel, of course. Trixie squealed and laughed. She also said she missed her, but sounded content and didn’t ask to return home. Dan was still with her, but Chloe was certain that even after his return to Los Angeles Trixie would be just fine. She probably already managed to wrap Dan’s parents around her fingers. They were always so strict for everyone… but melted on the first sight of her granddaughter.

Chloe shook her head with a nostalgic smile. Her little girl was growing. Soon, she would not want to spend the vacation with her mother at all, she would prefer to go with her friends… Perhaps it was a mistake to send her away, perhaps that was one of the last occasions to spend so much time together…

Ah, but that was not a whim. Chloe and Dan did it to protect her. There was a real danger lurking around Chloe, even if it was so easy to forget it in Lucifer’s apartment.

Chloe called the precinct to learn about the results of their investigation, but they didn’t have anything yet. She definitely should take action into her hands. She did all the research she could and the next step would be a quasi-stakeout at Lux.

They could start today. It was already an hour when Lux started to fill with customers.

Only that… today was not a good day.

Chloe looked at the dog. He was laying on his new bedding, thoroughly occupied with examining it: sniffing, scratching, even chewing the material, as if he saw something like this for the first time in his life. Chloe felt sad for him. On the one side, they must have taken about him good care in the shelter. He looked very healthy and strong. On the other side, however, emotionally there was something wrong with him. He must have been broken, on some stage of his life.

“You know what,” she said to Lucifer, “I think we need to postpone this stakeout one more time. The dog shouldn’t be left alone on his first evening in a new place. I will keep him company.”

“Right. That’s very thoughtful of you,” nodded Lucifer almost too eagerly and headed to his bar. “Red?”

“Excuse me?”

“Wine. Red?”

“Yes, please.” For a moment, Chloe lost her countenance. She didn’t plan to stay in Lucifer’s living space… but as the matter of fact she also didn’t want to withdraw to the guest room just yet.

Slowly, she took place on the sofa.

“So,” Lucifer handed her a glass of red wine, “do you want to watch TV? I can search for something interesting.”

“Ah… Aren’t you going to go downstairs? I mean, to the club?” Chloe didn’t even try the wine and felt a bit dizzy already.

“They will cope without me one evening,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “I believe I should stay with the dog too. I mean, after all, it is my responsibility.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, of course. It is your dog,” nodded Chloe.

“Right,” Lucifer commented only.

After a moment silence became a bit awkward. Or, perhaps, oh the contrary, it felt too comfortable.

Chloe tried the wine and it tasted divine.

“You may play something,” she proposed. “I heard that animals are sensitive to music. Dogs like… rock, I believe.”

“Oh, really? I am a dog pianist now?” Lucifer pouted comically but walked to the piano. Already from the bench, he looked at her, raising his eyebrow. “Am I to play the piano, because the dog may like it?...”

“Maybe not only the dog,” admitted Chloe, leaning toward him over the backrest of the sofa.

Lucifer smiled, starting to play. Chloe swirled the wine in her glass and with certain amazement realized that she was doing a lot of things, she shouldn’t do.

For example, she knew that one should never try to pet a dog in a fit of rage. She worked in a shelter, she knew how to act with aggressive animals. And still, when today she looked at this dog, there was something in his eyes, that made her forget all the rules they taught her.

And now, she definitely should not do… exactly what she was doing now. She should have gone to her room. Or occupy herself with something. Or, at least take a book, pretend to read. Not sin idly on this sofa, resting her cheek on the backrest, looking at him, listening to him with half-closed eyes… She shouldn’t feel so… relaxed and easy. That was a very bad idea. A blind alley, leading to nowhere.

It was all a big mistake. It was against all the ruled she knew and set for herself.

And still, that was what wanted to do.

She read an article about something similar. About people, who are afraid of heights but still, when looking down from a high place, want to jump…

How was it called? High place phenomenon?

The urge to jump?

 _The call of the abyss_ , whispered something in her, something cold and unpleasant and Chloe shivered.

Nope. She would not give to the moods. A few days ago, she felt so… bitter and lost. Even now, while thinking about work, she felt unpleasant tingling in the stomach. There were decisions to be taken, choices to be made… but she didn’t have to make them right now. She had a few weeks, to think everything over. 

She could concentrate on here and now, and here and now she felt welcomed and needed.

* * *

When Chloe was leaving her apartment, so that the owner could make necessary repairs, she intended to call him daily, to ensure, that the works would be done as swiftly, as possible. Somehow she forgot. He called her himself, on her third day in the Lux, explaining that the defect turned out to be more serious than they expected.

“They need to replace the pipes, both inside and outside the house,” she related the news to Maze, who replied her with an empty glance. Right, Maze probably never bothered herself with such trivial details like where the water in the taps comes from. “It will take longer than they told us,” she explained patiently. “Up to a few weeks.”

Maze replied with a stream of curses, in Russian and some other language Chloe didn’t recognize. The detective, however, didn’t feel especially irritated.

At least, she would have an occasion to help Lucifer with the dog.

Only a few days later Chloe recalled, that she forgot to ask Lucifer, whether she can stay longer. She felt very ashamed about, but immediately forgot about it again.

Somehow, everything seemed to be just as it should be.


	11. Sunflowers and daffodils

Maze and Chloe decided to call the dog Dip. Lucifer knew that for the detective it was one of these funny, short monikers, sounding like the name of the cartoon character. Mazikeen, for her part, referred to the very old and very dark myth, based on the successful hunt she and the hound had in Catalonia a few centuries ago. Lucifer found it particularly encouraging that one short name could respond to such contradictory tastes. He treated it a good forecast for the future.

Perhaps, somehow, with proper restraint and moderation, everyone – him including – could find what they needed.

Just look at Amenadiel. His righteous brother, the firstborn of the Angels, was now sitting calmly at the sofa in the devil’s apartment, not bothered by the fact, that the tail of Hellhound – even if in the fluffy dog glamour – was resting on his feet.

 _Almost like the lamb with the lion_ , Lucifer thought with a smirk, that, however, quickly faded, when the devil recalled that perhaps he wasn’t the one that should refer to the paradise.

Amenadiel since learning about Chloe’s ‘miracle-ness’ treated her with deepest, almost religious reverence. When he saw her bonding with the hound, he started to accept the presence of the Hellish beast on the Earthly plane. The Hellhound, for his part, learnt to ignore the vicinity of the disgraced Angel. Generally, the beast adapted quickly, even if from time to time he still got confused by the stream of earthly experiences. Lucifer fixed from the veterinarian who owed him a favour all documentation that the detective found necessary. Apart from that, they regularly visited the dog behaviourist she recommended. As the detective decided to accompany them each time, Lucifer realized that it was a great occasion to get a chunk of her time and attention. He searched the Internet and showed the hound a few movies, learning him how to behave, so that he would get many, many sessions prescribed.

The hound’s attention usually concentrated around the detective. Now he was laying sprawled comfortably in front of the sofa, keeping the head on Chloe’s knees and accepting caresses with such a blissed expression in his eyes, that for a moment Lucifer feared the beast might lose the control over his glamour.

As a matter of fact, Lucifer didn’t blame him. If anything, he was slightly jealous.

Mazikeen, was also present, watching TV together with the detective and Amenadiel. More precisely, they were watching some show, where the participants tried to forge the replicas of historical weapons. Maze and Amenadiel were exchanging professional comments about the weapons and Chloe listened to them with raised eyebrows. Lucifer stepped back, bored. He wasn’t too much into weaponry. His favourite way of dealing with the opponent was by talking and usually, it was all he needed.

For a moment, he observed the group with a distance. They looked so… exotically domesticated. Like three friends with a dog. Two demons, an angel and a mortal in the middle, so… calmly unaware of the true nature of her companions.

 _Ah, but we all are her friends,_ he thought. _Each one of us would gladly risk life for her._

Besides, what did it mean, the ‘true nature’? ‘I do not need the armour to be me’, said Mazikeen some time ago. Was she a different person with her mutilated cheek, than with an unblemished face? And Amenadiel, he was a human now. Did it matter, that he was an Angel once?

 _Which raises the key question, who am I?_ thought the devil. Or, maybe he wasn’t a devil anymore? The Hellfire didn’t leave him, but perhaps it wasn’t important? Perhaps, the only thing that matter was here and now? For a moment, Lucifer tried to feel the currents of destiny around him, but they were silent. The energy of all planes was calm and static around him.

His musings were interrupted when the detective stood up from the sofa. “The roast should be ready,” she said heading for the kitchen.

“No, no, do sit down,” Lucifer stopped her quickly. “I will take care of it.”

In the last days, the detective developed the habit of cooking. Lucifer, however, found a rewarding challenge in trying to enhance – or, rather, to save – the meal so quickly and discreetly that she wouldn’t notice. So far, he was successful. Today was no different. He made sure that the detective didn’t follow him to the kitchen and before serving the meal, added some spices and souses, exchanged the few components… No more than a few minutes and the results were more than satisfying.

“Amazing. I am going to visit you more often,” praised Amenadiel.

“Please, don’t,” muttered Lucifer, but handed him the bowl with the salad.

“Hey, you didn’t need to make a sauce, I made it,” called Chloe. “I left it on the counter.”

“I am sure it is somewhere,” replied truthfully Lucifer. Nothing in nature disappears without a trail, even if it is flushed down in the sink.

“Yours better anyway,” agreed generously Chloe. “Mine was a bit curdled.”

Yes. Yes, it was.

They ate in front of the TV, even if the detective pointed out how harmful to health it is and Lucifer voiced a few reservations concerning the potential destruction of his sofa.

In the meantime, the participants of the show made a few stupid mistakes that finally provoked Lucifer to voice his opinion about the uselessness of such failed weapon. Mazikeen disagreed, claiming that broken and unbalanced blades sometimes have unique features, misleading the opponent, by unpredictable trajectory, if only the owner knows how to use them. She was even ready to spare some of her blades and break them, to prove her point. She felt very disappointed when Lucifer refused the quickly improvised duel with non-standard weapons in the middle of his living room.

“Oh, what a weakling you have become. No spirit no fun,” she snorted scornfully, but Lucifer only laughed and retreated to the kitchen, to fetch the second course.

“Mazikeen is wrong. Domesticity serves you, Brother,” said quietly Amendiel, who followed him with empty plates.

“Hmm?... Yes, the dinner is quite cosy. Told you, Brother, Earth has many values. If only you didn’t have your head so deep in your… well, if you were more open-minded, you would understand it sooner.”

“That’s not what I am talking about.”

“Indeed? Brother, move. If I do not take the pan from the fire immediately, not even the miracle would be able to save it. Pun intended.”

“And what about… your reservations?” asked Amenadiel with hesitation. “Have you found the right answers?”

“Right now I would prefer to find a few branches of thyme,” muttered Lucifer, searching through his herb pots. Some part of him wanted to cover his ears. It was so much like Amenadiel, to drill down on the stupid questions and spoil the fun.

“Two weeks ago,” Amenadiel continued patiently, “you claimed that Chloe is Father’s tool destined to send you away to Hell. A part of His machinations, as you called it. Now you are living together. You gave her this demon. You seem to trust her.”

“As opposed to the common opinion, no one can give anyone a demon. These are not items. They have no souls, but they do have will and mind on their own. I assume that Mazikeen would gladly explain it to you in detail. This would also give her an occasion to try out the theory concerning untypical blades.”

“Lucifer.”

The devil sighed, putting away everything he kept, absently wiping his hands with a dishcloth.

“I have always trusted her,” he said gently. “I know that she is unaware of… of everything. It is the Father, whom I do not trust. Only that… that’s not that important at the moment.”

“Brother. Last time we talked you suggested that your vulnerability around Chloe would be the cause of your death and permanent exile into the Below. Or worse. How’s that not important?”

Lucifer grimaced. Did he really say something like this? It sounded terribly crude. Oh, whatever.

“Well, I am being cautious,” he said lightly, returning to the dishes. “Perhaps that would be enough. You see, Brother, the risks of police work are behind us. I am even not taking anything sharp to my hand. What bad could happen? And Brother, I really do not want to think about it right now,” he added quickly, seeing that Amenadiel was opening his mouth. “Now, I need to slice this piece of meat, before it dies for the second time, this time with no benefit for us. If you want to make yourself useful, give me the knife. No, not this one, this one is for the poultry. Really, Brother, do pay attention!...”

“Very well, I will say no more,” sighed Amenadiel. “I was questioning your logic, not your actions. I believe that Chloe can bring you happiness, not destruction. You already seem to be more at peace than I ever before.”

“I was, perhaps. Until you started talking,” retorted Lucifer.

Amenadiel shook his head, but gave up and stopped asking questions for the rest of the evening.

And Lucifer could stop thinking about everything he didn’t want to think about.

* * *

There were a lot of things the devil wanted to forget. To start with, he didn’t want to remember about the game, he intended to play with the ever-silent Father. The game concerning Chloe Decker.

Perhaps now it would be a great moment for his move. If he wanted to win the detective from the Father’s influence, now was a good time. She trusted him now, fully. She relied on him. Whatever he would speak to her about now, she would listen gladly and her judgement would be in his favour. Whatever he tried to talk her into, he would succeed.

And yet he didn’t want to think about the game. He was basking in the soothing presence of the selflessly friendly soul and didn’t want to remember that this all might have been no more than an illusion. He didn’t also want to remember, that there would be consequences if the devil plays at being human too long.

He was busy with filling the apartment with sunflowers and daffodils, because the detective liked yellow flowers, and lived the moment. Even if it was no more than a moment, it was all too good to give it up. All he wanted was this sweet harmony to last as long as possible.

Of course, Lucifer was well aware, that he was the main enemy of his own happiness. Even now he couldn’t remain safely satisfied with what he had.

All too soon, he started to want more.

A few days of Chloe’s presence in his apartment and the platonic bliss was not enough. The devil repeated himself, that he already had all possible sex in the world, and what was between himself and the detective was more… complex and unique… and that it would be a shame to reduce their relationship to banal carnal desires. Still, these arguments with each day became less and less significant. He wasn’t as much at peace, as Amendiel thought him to be.

His peace of mind and souls was constantly being disturbed by the way, the detective looked in the mornings, when she emerged from her room, still sleepy and warm. How she tied her hair in this messy bun, with strands falling aound her face. Or by the way her blouses and shirts, made from some unspeakably flimsy materials, wrapped her body, underlining each movement… or how she smelled now when her bath soap run out and she started to use his…

By the way how she was close, so close – and yet still beyond his grasp.

“Lucifer?...”

Oh, yes, and also by the way how her voice sounded when she was tired. A bit hoarse in such an inspiring manner.

“Lucifer? You seem distracted. Let me finish,” said the detective and Lucifer recalled they were cleaning after the visit. He shook his head in refusal and started to collect the empty plates.

“Dip was behaving very well. And it was fun,” mused the detective, wiping the coffee table. “What about going outside next time? Amenadiel mentioned something about going to the cinema and I thought that…”

She froze so abruptly that Lucifer noticed. He looked around, trying to spot what was wrong.

“Sorry, I just realized that realized that perhaps that’s not your favourite type of entertainment.” Her voice was a bit changed, but the devil couldn’t see her face through the curtain of hair.

“Well, going to the cinema with my brother is not my first idea of the most desirable way to pass the time,” Lucifer replied with distraction, most of his attention fixed on the way the curls were falling down her shoulders.

And how would they look like on her bare skin, if that hideous shirt didn’t stay in the way?

“Right, I thought it would be too… mundane for you,” stated the detective. She started to wipe the table again and continued with levity, that sounded a bit strained: “I have been wondering… Why don’t you invite anyone?”

Lucifer frowned. “We just had guests.”

“No, I mean… the guests from the club. You know.”

The detective still avoided his sight and it took Lucifer a longer moment to understand what she meant. Why did he stop to invite the guests for the nights of carnal pleasures? He simply didn’t think about it. He was too occupied. With her. Of course, that wasn’t the right answer.

“I wouldn’t like you to feel awkward,” he said instead.

The detective concentrated on some stain on the table. “You do not have to change your lifestyle on my account. There are doors to the guest room. I can close them.”

Lucifer’s frown deepened. He did not invite her to sit in the closed room, while he would be entertaining some strangers... The very same idea was absurd. Couldn’t she understand that…

“Anyway, that’s not my business. Sorry,” stated the detective walking away.

… that she was a centre of his galaxy?

All right, he was not blind. He knew how to read the signals, even the subconscious ones. A blush, a slight tremble in the voice. Dilated pupils, hastened breath. He noticed that the detective was increasingly… drawn to him.

Perhaps she wasn’t that much beyond his grasp.

Perhaps, if he reached for her, he would get her.

There were moments, when he wanted it so desperately, that nothing else mattered. He recalled with self-irony all the previous occasions when he turned her down: his generous restraint when she came to him searching comfort after the breakup with her ex… or his fit of pride and disappointment when he left to chase her away with a fake marriage… How humbled he was now, by his desire, when nothing else seemed to matter, compared to how much he wanted her!...

And still, he was determined to keep some distance between them, as there was one thing he didn’t allow himself to forget, even if he very much wanted to: that she was not his Miracle. She was Father’s. Heaven sent.

And the devil should not accept the gifts from Heaven.

In conclusion, to maintain the serene status quo, a proper self-restraint on his part was required.

* * *

For Chloe, the days fell into an easy rhythm. She spent a lot of time with Dip, taking him outside almost every time when she was leaving the building. Lucifer approved, even insisted, leading the dog to her each time she wanted to go out. Probably, he did not feel like walking the animal out himself. So, when she was jogging, or making small shopping, Dip always accompanied her. He was a wise and calm dog, even if he got easily distracted. Chloe suspected, that he didn’t live in the big city before. A new smell, an unknown sound – and he was following it blindly. Luckily, he always turned back, when she called him and generally, was very obedient.

The only exception was the behavioural sessions. These were a total catastrophe, so far. The therapist would probably resign, had it not been for the fact, that Lucifer paid her very well.

And sometimes, when irritated, Dip growled so terribly, like on the first day, when he attacked Amenadiel. That sound still made Chloe shiver, even if growling was never directed at her. She simply never have heard any the dog make such… disturbing sounds.

The days in Lucifer’s apartment were one of the most unusual experiences in Chloe’s life. For the first time since a very, very long time she didn’t have to struggle with the daily routine. She wasn’t in the hurry. No tasks waited for her, no one wanted anything from her.

For the first time since many years, she could do only that, what she wanted.

She became a bit lazy, all the plans she had for her vacations dissolving somewhere. Despite her previous resolve, she spent most of her time in Lucifer’s apartment. She met a few friends, but generally, she left the building reluctantly. For example, she knew that Dan already returned to LA, but somehow didn’t find time to meet him, limiting contact to the briefest calls concerning Trixie and news from the precinct. Perhaps she should have feel guilty about it, but she didn’t.

Apart from helping with the dog, Chloe was also reading a lot and cooking a bit. It was relaxing and the results were encouraging. And Lucifer, true to his word, did not mind the mess she was making in his kitchen, giving her free hand in everything.

Oh, and the cleaning lady started to ignore Lucifer and consult all her tasks with Chloe. She even tried to speak more English on her account. 

Lucifer was friendly, helpful and much calmer than usual. He cut off aggressive flirting and sex jokes. Probably, the hasty failed marriage learnt him something after all – or, maybe, he simply wasn’t attracted to her any longer. Sometimes, Chloe regretted she was so hard to get when he was still interested. She tried not to think about it, however, the idea was very disturbing.

Most of the evenings Chloe spent at Lux. Under the discreet care of the security – and a bit less discreet care of Maze and Lucifer – she waited for her enemy to make a move. It was the least favourite part of her vacation. Not that she was afraid, or did not like clubbing, of course, that she did… and Lux was a high-end place after all...

What she did not like was the sight of Lucifer surrounded by his admirers. By his court, there was no better word for it.

Oh, he behaved. By his standards, he certainly was unusually restrained. Nothing more than a smile here and there, a fleeting touch, a quick kiss, that was all. And yet, that people around him… sleek, beautiful, refined people… they would do anything him for him. In a second, if he wanted, they would bare for him their bodies and minds alike.

Chloe felt bad, watching it.

Perhaps that was the reason why she organized this dinner with Amenadiel and Maze today. To see Lucifer on a social occasion that was more like… from her range of experiences. A nice dinner, with family and friends. Lucifer seemed to have fun – that’s what she thought. At least until after dinner she started to ask her stupid questions.

What exactly tempted her to confront him about the suspicious lack of the guests in his bedroom? What exactly did she want to hear? ‘Dear Chloe, since I have you by my side, I am not interested in anyone else?’ Or, perhaps, ‘Detective, I regret leaving you, I hope we would rekindle our relationship?’

Yeah, exactly something like this.

That was pitiful.

Chloe quite nervously reached for tequila Patrick stood in front of her. Lucifer was honest with her, as usual. He told her the truth. He restrained himself for the sake of her modesty, but once she would move out…

Patrick refilled her glass and she quickly drank it again.

“I do not feel comfortable in the nightclubs too. I need a drink or two, you know, to get some courage.”

Chloe, blinking, looked at the man who spoke to her. Middle-aged, balding, nervous. No, he didn’t look like an emissary of the mob boss.

“My wife died six months ago,” he confided, leaning toward Chloe. “After her death, I got severe… anxiety neurosis. Terrible, physical symptoms. I thought it was cancer. But my doctor said it is all in my head. Can you imagine? He advised me I should go out, meet new people.”

Chloe didn’t answer, only stared at him in a strange state of stupor.

“You look reasonably,” he praised her. “Not like all these… you know,” he pointed at the crowds at the dancing floor. “What such a sound woman is doing in a place like this? Can I buy you a drink? Perhaps something lighter, because this,” he pointed at her tequila, “this is a killing shot for your liver.”

Chloe for a moment considered her options. “I am a police officer on a secret assignment to identify the members of the human trafficking gang,” she said blankly. “I would appreciate it, if you stop disturbing.”

“A-ah, yes. What?... Never mind,” the man stuttered and left – not a second too soon, because when Chloe turned to reach for her disgraced tequila, both Maze and Lucifer were already inches from her back.

“Hey, easy!...” she gasped, startled with their sudden appearance and the hungry expression in their eyes. She wouldn’t like to be on receiving end of this hunger. “It wasn’t the guy we are waiting for. It was just some poor lonely chap. He apparently saw me as the only woman from his league in this club.”

Damn, did it sound as if she was fishing for compliments? Because…

“Detective, I assure you, no one here is from your league,” replied immediately Lucifer, but it sounded hollow, as he in the next second he got drawn back into the crowd by a pair of white, willowy arms.

“Next time, leave the guy for me to deal with,” asked Maze, taking place on the barstool near Chloe. “I am bored. Almost two weeks of watching, and still no blood was spilt.”

“That’s fine, Maze. You may go too, have fun,” said Chloe not hiding her despondence. “I mean – I do not mean spilling blood, but… You do not have to sit with me. I am a big girl, I can myself with another loser that would try to hit on my.”

“I will keep watch by your side. You should not be accosted by some cretins.”

“Maze. I am sitting here to be accosted… by the criminal who is after me,” whispered Chloe leaning toward her. “And you are spoiling my stakeout. With you here, no one would try to make a move.”

“I hope so,” replied proudly Maze. However, she must have understood, because she turned her attention to the people around them.

When the young hot man passed by them, she raised her eyebrows and whistled. He stopped immediately, staring at Maze. “Are you, by any chance, also into men?” he asked shifting his sight between her and Chloe.

“I am into anything that has two legs and can scream,” replied Maze, jumping from the barstool. She cast one last glance toward Chloe and walked away, pulling the man with her.

Chloe smiled to Maze and took a sip from her tequila, falling into the gloomy mood again. The encounter with the widower should teach her something. That was a sort of men who could be interested in her. Not… not someone more… no matter. She was a middle-aged single mother. She liked dinners with friends and going to the cinema, not partying till the morning hours in the night clubs.

No, scratch it. There was a time when she liked having fun. Partying. And she was once a hot thing too. Even now, at the precinct, sometimes they called her ‘the hot detective’ behind her back.

Chloe shook her head, trying to clear the tequila induced fog from her mind. She didn’t want date offers from ageing hypochondriacs. She wanted… more. She wanted… something exciting. She looked around in search of Lucifer, but she couldn’t spot him in the crowd of dancing bodies in sequined dresses and designer shirts.

Oh, Hell with it. She could still be… desirable.

 _Mirror, mirror on the wall,_ she whispered to the glass of tequila of in her hand. _Do I still have it?_

 _There is only one way to find out,_ replied the glass, so Chloe emptied it and sprang into action.

* * *

Lucifer saw Mazikeen walking out with her new hook-up. When their sight met, she pointed him the detective and he nodded, confirming that he would be keeping an eye on her now. There was an agreement between them, that one of them would always be around, while Chloe was sitting at the bar.

Actually, at the moment she wasn’t sitting at the bar. Lucifer with sheer joy noticed, that she moved to the dancing floor. It was the highest time for her to loosen up. She spent almost every evening at Lux now, but she didn’t seem to have much fun so far. Lucifer quickly asked DJ to play some of her favourite songs, these terrible cheesy jams from the 90ties. He was ready to suffer this if it meant that she would enjoy the evening.

After a few minutes, the detective started to dance with someone. A young man, reasonably handsome.

Well, good for her. It was nice she was having a good time.

Lucifer tried to concentrate on people around him but failed, his attention increasingly pulled to the couple on the floor. He waited for the detective to leave that young chap and dance with someone else... but she remained with the same partner for three consecutive songs.

 _Two centuries ago that would be unheard of before the engagement,_ muttered Lucifer, quite bitingly. This young boy started to annoy him. He had a terribly pretentious haircut.

No, actually he didn’t. After a closer look, the devil had to admit that the boy chosen by the detective looked quite amiable. Hopefully, he was dull and the detective would get bored and leave, searching for someone more interesting to talk with.

However, the detective didn’t leave her new friend and even started to talk with him during the dance. She didn’t appear bored. Suddenly, Lucifer got struck by the suspicion that perhaps that man is the criminal they were waiting for, and was, somehow, forcing the detective to... Without finishing the thought, the devil made a beeline toward them ready to intervene – but the detective caught his sight and waved him off calmingly. She even wrapped her arm around her partner’s neck and behind his back showed Lucifer a ‘thumb up’ sign, smiling merrily.

She was simply having fun.

For a moment, Lucifer stared mesmerized at her hand, resting on another man’s shoulder. Then he went to the DJ table and asked him to change music for something more… complicated. In the next step, he intended to retrieve the detective from the dancing floor, but before he reached her, she and her new friend already left it, taking place behind the small table in a booth.

Very small table. How could he have been so thoughtless and install such tiny tables in his club? People behind them were basically crowding at each other.

A bit too bold hand caressed Lucifer’s shoulders and sneaked onto his chest. He batt it away, not gently at all, without even looking who it belonged to – and walked toward the bar, where he had a good viewpoint at the detective’s table.

That boy trying to pick her up was very young. What could she possibly talk about with the kid ten years younger than she? But, well, the acquaintances in the night clubs were not made for conversations, right?

 _Good for her,_ repeated Lucifer through clenched teeth. The detective deserved a bit of fun, didn’t she? If that kid tried to behave disrespectfully, if the detective felt uncomfortable… However, nothing like this was happening. Whatever the young man was talking about, it made her laugh. Even from the distance, Lucifer saw how her eyes shone. How many times did he repeat her she should live a little? Apparently, finally she did. He was not a hypocrite, to spoil her fun now.

A few people approached Lucifer at the bar, but he kept ignoring them with growing irritation. Finally, Patrick took it as a clue to send the next… applicants away and the devil could brood in peace. He tried not to stare at the detective’s table too extensively, but that left him on the pray of his imagination…

He looked again. The boy luckily – for him – was keeping his hands over the table, but he and the detective were sitting so close, that their legs must have been touching under the table. Lucifer never treated occasional touch as something meaningful, but now he started to suspect that he was wrong. However, as both the detective and her new friend had good time together, flirting and drinking, soon they would be touching each other not occasionally, but with the most purposeful intent.

 _Bloody Hell, that is enough,_ bridled the devil, standing up. It was his club, he was making the rules here. He could be a hypocrite if he wanted to.

Besides, that wasn’t the right man for the detective. He was too young, too stupid and certainly not experienced enough to satisfy her needs. She would only feel bad afterwards. Yes, he definitely needed to protect her from such… discouraging experience.

In the last impulse of self-defence, to avoid making the total fool of himself, Lucifer didn’t approach the detective himself, only went in search for Mazikeen. He found her in one of the back rooms, somewhere between the first and second round with her newest toy. Seeing Lucifer, she snapped her fingers at her partner to stop his ministrations and the man obediently stepped back. A quarter or so in Mazikeen’s company and he already knew his place.

“Mazie, would you do something for me?” asked Lucifer as nicely, as he could at his present, bloodthirsty state of mind. “Someone’s causing troubles, I would like you to get rid of him.”

“I do not work for you anymore,” remarked Mazikeen, correcting her clothes, “but if there is an occasion to kick someone’s ass...”

“I am not sure about that kicking. I’d rather the thing to be done discreetly,” muttered Lucifer, pointing her the detective and her companion.

Mazikeen for a moment started at them with widely open eyes and then – the insolence of the Lilim!... – almost bent in half, choking with laughter. “So the devil is jealous of a human boy?...” she commented finally when she regained her breath.

“I do not need to explain my motives,” hissed Lucifer. “Are you helping, or not?”

“No,” replied the demoness. “If you see something you do not like, deal with it yourself.”

“I will remember how helpful you were, Mazikeen.”

“Come on Lucifer, Decker had finally loosened up a little, what’s wrong with that? They are having fun, and if the mood heats up later, so what? That guy is cute and she needed to get laid long ago.” Mazikeen shrugged her shoulders and started to shed off her top again, turning to her conquest. “Oh, and, Lucifer? If you are going to walk around like that, tell people that you are testing new contact lenses.”

Lucifer sighed, stepping outside the room and closing the door, to give Mazikeen privacy she did not ask for. Then he closed the eyes and took a few calming breaths, to put Hellfire away. It was not that easy - the idea of the detective ‘getting laid’ was preposterous.

On the other side… Just as Mazikeen said, what would be wrong in that? The devil stood in the dark corridor and, crooking his head, watched at the crowds having fun in the club, the detective among them. The meaningless sex with a stranger – it was something the devil approved and the Father – didn’t. That would certainly put some distance between Heaven and their Miracle. Just a bit of carnal pleasure, some gymnastic between the sheets. That boy was cute. For Lucifer, he seemed a bit too plain, but the detective probably found him attractive enough.

He should probably now go and let the detective know, that he wouldn’t mind if she wanted to invite her conquest to his apartment.

That was exactly what a hospitable devil would do.

And still…

 _Over my dead body,_ decided Lucifer.

And yes, he took into account the fact he was immortal.

Once the decision was taken, Lucifer walked back to the club, heading straight to the detective’s table. Determined to solve the problem in a civilized manner, he did his best to ignore her companion, only leant over Chloe and said quietly:

“Detective, wouldn’t you like to end the evening now? I believe that it is a good moment.”

“Here you are!...” The green-blue eyes rested on him, lightening up in a brilliant smile. “How… nice of you. You think I should… go home?”

She was amused and apparently a bit more tipsy than Lucifer expected her to be.

All his confidence suddenly gone, the devil was able to reply only: “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Okay.”

 _Okay?_ So much quandary and she simply agreed to follow him, just like that? Lucifer, so used to humans following him blindly the moment after he lifted a finger, now barely believed his luck. He reached his hand to help her stand up and the detective accepted it, not lowering her sight from his.

For a moment the devil let himself get lost in these ocean-like eyes and the levity of her smile.

“Hey, sorry, where are you going?” the detective’s companion woke up from the stupor. The boy might have some assets, but reflex was not one of them. “What – who is it? Your brother came to take you home, or what?...”

Neither the sense of humour. Was it supposed to be funny? Still, the detective, out of unknown reason, found it amusing, bursting out with her unique – totally unsexy – laughter. It was the only thing that saved the boy from the speeded lesson of the darker side.

“Sort of. It was nice to meet you, Jim,” she said with a smile, “but now I need to go. Have fun, will you?”

“Hey, if you need to go, at least give me your number or something? Where are you from? How could I contact you?” the young man tried to catch her attention again.

Lucifer shifted, blocking his way. “She is from here. And you cannot.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe tapped on his arm. “Goodbye, Jim.”

She headed for the elevator, but the young man still did not accept failure. He made a step forward, intending to follow her, so Lucifer lingered, letting the crowd separate him and the detective for a moment. He stopped the young man, putting the hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, Jim, you seem to be a nice guy and my friend had fun in your company, something that I normally would appreciate,” he said quietly, “but at the moment I would very much like to hurt you, so don’t tempt me. I was never good at resisting temptation.”

The devil tried to sound casually, friendly even. However, judging from Jim’s expression, he failed. The boy wiggled himself from Lucifer’s grasp and stepped back, rubbing his shoulder. The most probably, he would never again visit Lux.

What a pity.

* * *

Only in the elevator, Lucifer let out the breath he didn’t know he was keeping. Somehow, he didn’t expect that the things would go so smoothly, that the detective would follow him so easily, without questioning his motives… Suddenly, he felt ashamed. She was enjoying herself, she let her barriers down for the first time since weeks… and he spoilt it, so selfishly.

“I am sorry, Detective,” he said driven by a sudden impulse, even if the devil didn’t do apologies. “I didn’t have the right to intervene, but I just thought you might do something you would regret tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” the detective waved her hand in a generous gesture, that made her lose balance for a moment. She must have been more than tipsy. “I wasn’t going to have sex with this guy… even if he was nice. Very nice. I just wanted to check whether you would notice.”

Lucifer’s brain went through a short circuit. “Me?...”

“Uhm. You,” nodded the detective, searching for something in her handbag, ignoring his glare with alcohol-induced cheerfulness. “Wondered whether you still care, you know.”

“Oh, bloody Hell, what are we, teenagers?” Lucifer bridled defensively.

“It worked,” confided Chloe, with a wide, self-satisfied smile.

“Of course it did not!” Lucifer nervously pushed the button in the elevator again, as if it could make the machine go faster. For a moment he felt unsure – tricked and bared for mocking. “Come on, Darling, that’s the oldest trick in the book. I would never fall for it.”

“You just di-id,” she objected in a sing-song voice and looked at him with this brilliant smile again. No, she didn’t look as if she wanted to mock him. She looked… happy.

Lucifer found himself at a total loss how to react. Luckily, at this moment the elevator stopped, reaching its destination. They entered the apartment, almost tripping over the hound, who was dozing just in front of the entrance. The beast woke up, looked at them and – calmed down – walked away to the Lucifer’s bedroom, not before making a small circle around the detective, so that she could pet his head. For a second, Lucifer wondered how the hound would welcome Jim and the conclusion made him smile with satisfaction.

The moment of distraction allowed him to gather his thoughts and he knew, what he should tell the detective: that, of course, he always paid attention to what she was doing, just because he – as a good host and friend – cared for her well-being. And that such games were reckless at least, especially when there was a danger lurking around, an enemy she should beware of. And that generally he was not a patient kind of devil and teasing him could have… unexpected consequences.

However, when he turned to the detective to tell her all this and met the expectant glance of her smiling eyes, somehow he asked instead: “So you weren’t attracted to that man?...”

Bloody Hell, where was his dignity? He was basically fawning, looking at her hopefully. He was worse than this stupid hound.

“No,” the detective shook her head so decisively, that her hair scattered all over her shoulders. “I just wanted to draw your attention. He was cute but boring. You are never boring.”

And yes, he wanted to hear exactly something like this.

The detective slipped her heels off and headed for her room. Lucifer instinctively followed her and it was as if he was walking the girl up home after the date – which was funny because they were home already… He blinked, desperately trying to wake up from whatever spell he was under before the things went too far.

“Goodnight,” the detective turned to him with a smile opening the doors to her room, and he understood it was the last time he saw this brilliant smile this evening – and tomorrow she may not remember anything. Desperate to prolong the moment of soft intimacy, he leant toward her, to kiss her forehead – only that she tiptoed, to kiss his cheek and somehow they both changed their mind…

She kissed him, soft lips pressing into his.

Despite everything, he accepted it gladly. There was nothing wrong in one kiss. She wanted this too. She would not remember.

Nothing bad would happen if he let her kiss him a bit longer.

Nothing bad would happen if he gave himself a few more seconds.

It was better than that kiss on the beach. On that day he barely dared to touch her, and now he had it all – the taste of her lips, the softness of her skin, her hair, her flesh in his hands… Confused, Lucifer realized, that he was not accepting her kiss, only kissing her, thoroughly, holding her – one hand in her hair and the other on the small of her back – so tightly, that she barely could move, except melting against him. And still, she did her best, eagerly trying to kiss him back.

She wanted this… she wanted him too. What bad could happen, if he claimed her?

There were molten flames in his veins instead of blood, if he let them burn, they could replace his Hellfire; the desire deafening all caution, all reasons to stop…

Did it matter, who put her in his path?

Perhaps it did.

Suddenly, the devil realized that the currents of destiny around them were not silent, only waiting – waiting for them to pass the threshold. If they gave in to the desire now, that would be neither a meaningless entertainment nor an inconsequential moment of tenderness.

That would change everything.

With the highest effort, Lucifer removed his hands from her, stepping back, even if the distance between them hurt.

“Lucifer?...” Chloe looked at him flushed and dazed, and everything in her was saying ‘yes’.

“Goodnight, Detective,” he gasped and gently pushed her into her room, shutting the door behind her.

Then he slumped down, sitting inertly on the floor, trying to cool his forehead over the stone surface of the wall.

“You taste better than the apple,” he whispered, once he was certain she wouldn’t hear him.

* * *

On the next day, Chloe was awakened by the call from Patrick, who got some correspondence addressed to her.

The detective welcomed the new day reluctantly. Her memories from the last evening were rather blurry, but she realized that she might have done one or two reckless things… because of one or two tequilas too many.

But, oh, she remembered all too well how the evening ended. These “goodnights” between her and Lucifer… The hot shiver ran through her body at the mere thought about it. And she refused to regret it.

 _After all, he was kissing me too,_ she thought, smiling involuntarily.

Okay, she did not plan to enter this river again, but… once she already wetted her feet… perhaps… She preferred not to finish this sentence until she talked with Lucifer. Knowing him, he could pass lightly over something, that for Chloe was like a little personal earthquake.

Determined, she got up and clothes, trying to appear… collected – and left the safety of her room.

Lucifer was not there. The apartment was empty, except Dip waiting for her in the middle of the living space. The detective quickly checked the kitchen, the bar, the doors of the elevator… There was no note left for her.

Trying to distract herself from bad premonitions, Chloe walked to the club, to get her mail from Patrick. When the bartender handed her the envelope, at first she thought it was something from Ella. Who else would address the correspondence for her to the Lux? She didn’t tell almost anyone, not even Dan or her mother, that she was staying here. They would make too much fuss about it. Perhaps these were some lab results? The envelope was big and stiff.

However, when Chloe looked at it again, she felt it was something different. There was no sender address and the paper was a bit strange, definitely not from the police supplies.

The detective slowly opened the parcel. It contained only one photo, without any letter or comment.

A photo of her.

It must have been taken years ago. She was still wearing a patrol uniform, so it was before she was promoted. The photo zoomed at the upper part of her body, showing her face, and her right arm, raised probably to correct her hair, gathered in a ponytail. She seemed unaware that someone was taking her pictures. Whoever did it, must have done it from cover.

Chloe concentrated, trying to place the photo more precisely in a timeline. After a moment she spotted on her wrist the bracelet, Dan gave her on their first Christmas after their wedding. There was a time, short after Trixie was born, when she used to wear it daily.

Now the piece of jewellery laid forgotten in some box.

For a while, Chloe looked at her much younger face recalling – with certain amazement – how happy and hopeful she felt then. She has just finished her maternity leave and worked hard for her expected promotion. Baby Trixie was so sweet and Dan was so caring. These were one of the best months for them as the family. They even talked about having a second child in a few years.

Chloe-from-the-photo thought she managed to win it all and from now on her life was going to be a constant development.

Chloe-from-today felt the unwanted tears gathering in her eyes, realizing, how many of her dreams failed.

The young woman on the photo already had one big disappointment behind her. After all, she wanted to be an actress.. When her infamous movie was about to be aired, teenage Chloe expected to become be a movie star. She imagined playing in good movies. Wise and inspiring. She dreamt about getting an Oscar one day, her father sitting among the audience, cheering her success...

Then her father got killed and all her plans were shattered. She built the new ones. She wanted to be a police officer, then the detective, then lieutenant perhaps, fighting with crime, protecting justice. She hoped that she would manage to reconcile work and family. Be a good mother, a paragon for her children and supportive partner for her husband.

And that all went to Hell in a streak of calamities. Trixie was the only fair spot in her life.

Would her whole life be like this? A trail of broken dreams?

Because then Lucifer happened, and for a moment she thought, that perhaps, as damaged as they both were, they would manage to build a thing, together. But then it all went to Hell too… only perhaps it didn’t, because there was, evidently, something between them again…

 _Yeah. A few drunken kisses he will probably pretend not to remember. Something very meaningful, especially for Lucifer,_ she chided herself mockingly, but still blush crept on her cheeks and she felt a bit better.

She needed to concentrate on the photo. Whoever sent her this, he did it not to wake up her nostalgia. It was a message. Someone wanted to take revenge on her and wanted her to know the reason. Still, no matter how long she looked at the photo, she couldn’t associate it with any case.

Younger Chloe was standing on the sunny street, probably somewhere near the precinct. The building in the background looked familiar. There was another cop standing behind her. She recognized him - Billy Anderson, a nice guy she was often partnered with. They worked together for two years maybe? But it wasn’t about him, his face on the photo was blurry and barely visible. The picture was definitely focused on her. 

_Sorry, creepy guy,_ she whispered to her unknown persecutor. _No idea what you want from me. You need to send me another clue._

She should show the picture to Lucifer. He wouldn’t be able to read anything more from it than she already did, but she should tell him about it anyway. After all, they were investigating this case – ‘her case’ – together.

And it would be such a good pretext to call him and check… how the things between them were. How he was.

Chloe reached for her phone and for a moment her fingers lingered over the screen, unsure. For a moment, she got overwhelmed by that unpleasant feeling, that settled in her stomach earlier, when she saw that apartment was empty.

For a moment, she was again in that hospital, recovering from the poisoning, calling him over and over.

Her worst concern was not that he wouldn’t remember their kisses, or treat that moment as meaningless occurrence. What she really feared was that after calling him, she would hear no more than the voice mail.

Again.


	12. Voicemail

“I start to see a pattern,” Lucifer measured Amenadiel with a knowing glance. “Each time you visit Lux, where Mazikeen is staying at the moment, you come alone. Each time, however, when we are meeting outside the Lux, you are in a company of Doctor Martin.” His sight ran toward Linda, who was standing in the small distance, talking on her phone. She waved to him friendly and signed that she soon would finish the conversation.

Amenadiel also looked in her direction and… squirmed. “That’s not what you  suggest . It fact…”

“Please don’t tell me. I am not interested in the slightest,” Lucifer raised his hands defensively. “I have more important issues to cope with. Just explain, what are we doing here? In the shopping centre, of all the places?”

“You are the one who wanted to meet outside the Lux,” Amenadiel shrugged his shoulders. 

That was true. After the last night’s… occurrence the devil reached his lowest point: unable to cope with his inner quandary, like a mere mortal, in search for  the  support he called his brother. However, once they started to talk, his pride stopped him from defining the problem. Therefore, Amenadiel must have… misinterpreted his intentions. He proposed meeting in the shopping centre, what Lucifer, in his distracted state of mind, accepted with no protests. However, he got more than surprised when Amenadiel arrived in the company Doctor Martin.

Now they were standing in the middle of  the  shopping alley, waiting for Linda to finish her call. It was still very early and  the  shopping mall wasn’t as crowded as usual.  Still , at this time of the day, it was filled with mothers and toddlers at the family shopping. Lucifer sent them disgusted glances, trying to avoid being r u n over by prams. 

“I thought it is about this visit to the cinema, Chloe and I talked about,” added Amenadiel, as usual in blissful unawareness of his brother’s growing irritation.

“Cinema? I was in the cinema once or twice, when it was a novelty… Now it is too barbaric. I wanted to meet outside the Lux because I did not want to wake up the detective. You know, being human, she needs more sleep,” replied Lucifer with much less confidence. Of course, Doctor Martin chose exactly this moment to end her phone call. She heard his words and measured him with this scrutinizing glance of her, raising her eyebrows as if she wanted to say: ‘Ah-ah!... I got you!’

“So nice to see you, Lucifer. It is been ages,” the doctor welcomed him and turned to his brother: “Amenadiel, I believe there was some misunderstanding. I thought we were going to have coffee… or something. I do not want to go to the cinema.”

“But I have never been to…”

“It is time for morning shows, they are mostly for children. Family shows and dozens of children that constantly need to pee – no, thank you,” doctor Linda stated decisively and Lucifer shuddered at the very same idea of sitting among the rows of little, noisy and sticky monsters. 

“Let’s do it properly,” offered Linda. “Friday evening, supper, movie and then a few drinks at Lux. And Chloe would come too, right, Lucifer?” she looked at him cautiously.

The devil rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t too subtle, Doctor, you can do better than this. So yes, yes. Chloe would come. And no, we didn’t quarrel. Everything’s fine.”

“Good. Because when you wanted to meet so unexpectedly… outside Lux…” stressed Amenadiel. “I feared that perhaps…”

“That perhaps the changes in your life start to overwhelm you,” finished Linda.

“There are no changes in my life. At least not yet…” muttered Lucifer. “And I won’t bear you two speaking in one voice. No.” 

The herd of giggling little girls hurrying for the show surrounded them, for a moment, deafening their conversation.

“Fine. Let’s go for coffee,” gave up Amenadiel, looking toward the cinema with a wistful glance. “Shouldn’t these children be at school?” he added with slight irritation.

“School holidays,” explained Lucifer and, slightly abashed with their surprised glances, added: “I only happen to know because of Beatrice… I mean detective’s spawn… Never mind that. Coffee it is. Let’s go.”

When they found place cosy enough to warrant  a private conversation, Amenadiel asked quite formally.

“So, what can I do for you, Brother?” 

So far, Lucifer didn’t have specified idea, why exactly did he want to meet with Amenadiel. Probably, he just wanted to speak –  and the doctor’s presence wasn’t exactly welcomed at the moment. He needed conversation, not vivisection of his heart and soul. However, when Amenadiel asked his question, Lucifer suddenly got an epiphany. 

“As a matter of fact, you can!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “After all, it was all your doing!” Amenadiel frowned and Lucifer elaborated: “Chloe. All that Miracle… debacle. You made it, you will solve it for me.”

“Solve?... How?...” there was a shadow of dread in his brother’s voice. “And I did not make her. I mean – it. I did not. I have only…”

“To start with, it would be good to learn, what exactly Father wants to achieve through her.” 

“I told you, Lucifer, I have no idea, why she wanted her to be born. I just…”

“Yes, you just got the orders and followed them, I would never expect more from you,” Lucifer waved his hand dismissively. “Well, learn it now. Ask Him.” 

“I cannot,” Amenadiel shook his head helplessly. “I cannot reach Father. I lost... connection. I thought you realized that, Lucifer.”

His voice sounded strangely hollow, but Lucifer was too excited with his idea to pay attention. 

“Well, I know, that you didn’t get the answers to your problems, but I thought you would be able to speak about mine,” he retorted carelessly. “Didn’t you whine all around, how I am your mission? And Chloe was your mission too, apparently. Solve it! Talk with… someone, if you cannot contact Father directly… Our siblings, perhaps? I don’t care. Be creative, find the answers!”

Amenadiel shook his head again, sending helpless glance toward Linda as if searching her support. The doctor  so far was sitting quiet, shifting her glance between two brothers. Direct remarks about Father still tended to intimidate her. 

“Lucifer,” she started slowly, “it is understandable that you seek answers. Everyone would feel safer, if...”

She silenced when the waitress brought their order. Lucifer thanked  the girl with  a flashing smile and continued casually: 

“It is not about feeling safer, Dear Doctor. I will try to make a deal with Father.”

With each word, he felt more confident. Somehow, he saw a solution to all his problems. A solution, that would allow him to get what he wanted so desperately for so long. After all, once he would make a deal, it would be only a matter of paying the price.

“Maybe – just maybe – I will give to Him freely, what he wanted to achieve through this manipulation.” 

“What?” Amenadiel asked with disbelief. “But you suspected that…”

“That He wants me stuck back in Hell? Yes, I did. I still do,” smirked Lucifer. “And yes, perhaps I am ready to reconsider my return… even for the significant passage of time… under certain conditions.” 

Somehow, Amenadiel didn’t beam or compliment him on the right decision. Instead, he paled and asked cautiously:

“Conditions?...” 

“Like leaving me in peace for a few years more,” the devil shrugged his shoulders. “Forty or fifty… until the detective’s time here would run out. Oh please, that’s just a twinkling of an eye! No offence, Doctor, but you understand, that the human’s lifespan in comparison to the history of time is… well, insignificant.”

“Uhm. None taken,” muttered Linda, nervously stirring her cappuccino. 

“Father should agree,” continued Lucifer. “Whatever He planned against me, He cannot be sure of success, even after creating such exquisite Miracle as the detective. I believe I have proved myself a worthy opponent in the past centuries… And that’s how… I will offer Him a sure win. A few years of delay shouldn’t make a difference.”

“Yesterday… I didn’t get the impression that you… have such plans, Brothers,” muttered Amenadiel. “You said something about being cautious. I assumed that you wanted to help Chloe, but keep your distance.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Overnight?”

“Yes.”

Amenadiel raised his eyes to the ceiling. Was he praying for patience? Expecting a sign, or something? Lucifer discreetly followed his sight, but there  was nothing more but a few pipes and bars. The cafe was arranged like an industrial loft.

“Are you serious? You would... return?”

“Perhaps,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “I am open to negotiations. Admit that it is a good idea,” he looked at his brother temptingly. “I will be a responsible devil again, just as you always preached me. Your mission would be successful. Perhaps you would get your feathery grace back. So, help me.”

Still, Amenadiel appeared strangely deflated. He sighed, avoiding Lucifer’s sight. 

“Why don’t you ask the Father by yourself?” 

“Because we are not on speaking terms!... I am ready to make a deal through the middleman, but I will not… seek an audience!” snorted the devil. “Are you going to be my middleman, Brother?”

Amenadiel for a long while contemplated his hands. When he looked at Lucifer again, his expression was one of the full vulnerability: 

“Lucifer, there is nothing I dream more about than helping to reconcile Father and you. I am not sure whether you are right about Father’s intentions concerning Chloe, but yes, I believe that He would accept the deal, granting you these years of happiness in exchange for the return to your duties. However, the Host is closed for me. More than it ever was to you, I suppose. I cannot hear, or feel, anyone, neither Father nor our siblings. I am a human. I try to find the lesson in this... and consolation… but... I am unable to help you.”

In the end, Amenadiel’s voice shivered and Lucifer with surprise noticed tears in his eyes. Confused, he reached to touch his brother’s arm, but he tilted back violently, stood up and left the café, without turning back.

Lucifer half-raised from the seat to follow him, but Linda stopped him.

“Don’t. Give him time. You hurt him… by reminding him what he lost.”

“That’s something neither of us gets to forget, Dear Doctor,” Lucifer smiled bitterly.

For a long moment, they sat in silence, Lucifer motionless and Linda stirring her cappuccino again. It must have already gotten cold, from all that stirring.

“You shouldn’t have spoken with your brother like this, Lucifer,” Linda observed softly. “Be more… considerate. He is suffering, because of the changes in his… condition.”

“The fall, Doctor. It is called the fall,” stressed Lucifer. “And he well deserved it. But you do seem to be protective about this rascal of my brother, don’t you?” Lucifer observed jokingly and thought that perhaps, for the doctor’s sake, he should look into his brother’s affairs more carefully after all – and check how Mazikeen fit in all this. 

Linda smiled back. 

“It seems that I do. But you are my friend too. If you need to talk about anything, Lucifer, you know you can count on me.”

Lucifer knew her well enough to be able to read between the lines.

“Yes, I know. I perhaps shouldn’t have… ceased out sessions… but I had a… set back of sort. When the detective asked me to leave, I was in the wrong place. And now… Now I am not certain where I am.”

“In a better place, I hope,” nodded Linda. She doubtlessly understood the veiled refusal in his words, but the doctor never gave up easily. “I am not going to comment on… God’s possible will, or the reason for… miracles. I will leave all these celestial dealings to you and Amenadiel. However, I noticed that you are talking about a long term relationship with Chloe.”

“Yes, Doctor, I suppose that I am,” replied Lucifer with surprise and he laughed, to mask confusion. “Is it a free session, Doctor?” 

The doctor ignored the quip “A relationship, Lucifer. A long-term commitment,” she stressed. 

“Ah, yes. You doubt whether I what it means, right?”

“Well, a lifetime commitment is a bit more than a weekend of fun.”

“I may need to work out the details, but I know what relationships are about in general. Apart from the obvious,” the devil allowed himself for a knowing smirk, “I guess that it would be being exclusive and remembering about her spawn’s needs. Well, perhaps in the reverse order.”

“I am not sure whether the order should be reversed, but yes, generally you are absolutely right,” Linda smiled cordially. “I wish you luck. And I can talk with Chloe. Help her to… process things.”

Lucifer frowned. “I believe that the detective is in perfect mental state at the moment. She was a bit downcast recently, true, but I think that this low moment is over.”

“I am referring to her reaction at… you… being who you are. The moment when you… show her… your devil’s side… It might be difficult. Or perhaps you have already passed this bridge?” 

“No, and I don’t indent to,” Lucifer shivered at the idea. “Thank you for your offer, but that won’t be an issue. Detective and I can share a few happy moments without bothering her soul with such… gore details of my personality.”

The warm smile in Linda’s eyes slowly faded. “That sounds a bit... unfair toward Chloe.” 

Lucifer seethed. “Unfair? Toward her? I will make her happy,” he hissed. “I will take care of her every need. She will have the exciting, carefree life here on Earth, and then she would head for Heaven, to spend the rest of  eternity with her family and friends. She will, after all, fulfil the destiny Father set for her. Can there be a better perspective? How’s that unfair?”

“Many women would certainly thrill at such perspective, though I do not think that Chloe is one of them,” Linda shook her head. “Besides… when there are so much lies between two people, something is bound to backfire, sooner or later.”

Lucifer bridled, intending to protest, however, at this moment his phone rang. Distracted, the devil looked at the screen.  _The Detective_ .

Lucifer was too agitated to speak with her at the moment, so he put  the call into voicemail, but it made him smile anyway. She must have woke up and was thinking about him. She cared for him. 

Right? 

“Doctor? Why did you say that Chloe may not be a woman who could… be happy with me?” he asked, all of the sudden feeling as vulnerable as Amenadiel a few minutes before.

“That’s not what I meant,” Linda decisively shook her head. “But it seems that you made all the decisions for her, didn’t you?... Including the plan of leaving her after her death.”

“Well, that’s not depending on me!” Lucifer snorted angrily. He was banned from Heaven. All he had was here and now. There was no need to bother himself with the things he had no influence on. 

_Something is bound to backfire…_ Was he really going to have forty years? He would need to precise  the conditions of the deal with the Father to guarantee, that no accident, or sickness, would steal the detective from him too soon…

_Bound to backfire…_ There would be, o f course, other issues to cope with. For example, he was not going to age. The detective  would notice that. Another problem he would need to solve.

Oh, why did he speak with Doctor Linda? The plan looked so good, and now  s o many doubts started to arise…

“Again, I wish you all the best, both of you,” said softly Linda, standing up. “Now, I do not think Amenadiel is going to return to us. I will better search for him.”

He farewelled Linda and reached for his phone, intending to call back the detective and learn what she wanted. However, she has already sent him a message:  _Dinner at 3 pm_ and a smiley. 

For a moment, the devil stared at the small icon of  a  smiley face and then couldn’t help, but smile back. 

_The detective. Chloe._

In this chaos of emotions, of contradictory influences and unpredictable destinies, one thin g was certain: there was nothing in all three planes of existence he cared more about than  her . He would act on this feeling and pay any price necessary to spend with her a much time as possible.

And he would do everything within his powers so that she didn’t have to pay any of this price, even if it would mean keeping her in the dark about his true nature.

* * *

A voicemail.

It was a voicemail again. 

Chloe sat at the bed, clutching the phone in her hand, trying not to fell in panic. There could be thousands reason why Lucifer didn’t answer a phone. He could have been busy. During the meeting. Or in some noisy place. Or driving. No, he always answered the phone while driving - and he had very good hearing. He always heard the incoming calls.

She nervously bit the nail of her thumb. 

One failed phone call didn’t mean anything.  Chloe’s fingers itched to press the call button  once more … but what if he didn’t reply? How soon would she end with three hundred unanswered calls again? Like the last time, when she tried to contact Lucifer from the hospital? 

Everything in Chloe screamed that it was happening again. Yesterday they were kissing, today he disappeared and her calls were going to the voicemail. 

“He won’t return until he finds a new wife,” muttered the detective bitingly. “Okay, that was mean. I shouldn’t have…”

On the other side, it was actually quite likely, that Lucifer would return – perhaps not with a new wife because even he wouldn’t pull the same stunt again – but in the company of some one-nighter. He could do just that, to shield himself from her again, to prove his usual point, that there was nothing real between them… What if he would stroll in with some  sex bomb attached to his arm, beaming with the usual suave charm and with the cold distance in his eyes, just like when he brought Candy to the precinct?… Chloe’s imagination worked against her and for a moment she was torn between the urge to leave the apartment or hide the head under the pillow. Some part of her wanted to pack and leave already – to avoid confrontation, that would bring her the most painful disappointment. 

As if feeling her distress, Dip walked toward her nuzzling her knees and waggling his tail. 

“At least you stayed with me,” sighed Chloe rubbing his neck. “Good boy.” 

Should she call again? No. She wouldn’t bear hearing the voice mail, she had enough of it for a lifetime. And what if  Lucifer was really gone?  Chloe swallowed the tears threatening to spill. Panic and doubt flooded her and for a moment she really wanted to leave, hide somewhere...

Dip jumped at the bed, rubbing his head over her cheek. 

Chloe absently leant toward  the dog , cuddling him closer, hiding the face in his fur...

…. _But of course that Lucifer cared for her. For him, she was special. The most fascinating and unique being on the Earth, he even met_ _during_ _the endless passages of time... She was precious and he would_ _make_ _every effort to protect her. He found her beautiful, desirable. Now like a fleeting entertainment, but like an equal…_

“And if he returns with another, you will show her Hell, right?” whispered Chloe to the dog, looking in his eyes that were like bottomless black holes now.

The dog licked her face and barked shortly in agreement.

Chloe shivered as if waking from the trance. Now, wasn’t she getting too full of herself? ‘Precious’?... ‘Unique’?... Wow. Where did that come from?...

Still, he felt better. After all, Lucifer honestly cared for her. He gave her many proofs of it. She should not draw too many conclusions from one failed phone call, like some unbalanced teenager.

Besides, this time she had nowhere to leave. No work, to submerge herself into. No daughter to take care of. As a matter of fact, even no flat, because her apartment was still under reconstruction. 

“Apparently, that’s my last stance,” Chloe muttered with self-irony. She patted the dog once again and decided to stop panicking. She would wait patiently and in the meantime act as if nothing happened. She could occupy herself with something. 

“What about a short walk?” she said to the dog. “We would go to our favourite shop and buy something fancy for dinner.”

She quickly texted Lucifer the hour of the meal, finishing it with a smiley, not with a questioning mark, so that she wouldn’t have to worry with the lack of an answer. If he comes, that’s great. If not – she would worry later.

And if Lucifer comes in the company of some bimbo again, this time she would simply throw her out and they would finally talk, like grown-ups. 

* * *

Chloe decided to prepare for dinner  a kind of quiche. She had bought a frozen dough a few days ago, hiding it carefully from Lucifer. He certainly would not approve of the pre-made dough, but once she will remove the wrapping, he would never know the difference. She would only need to buy some cheese in the grocery. Lucifer had several types of cheese in the fridge, but Chloe did not dare to take any of them. Lucifer was a terrible snob when it came to cheese. What if she baked the sort that was destined for desserts only? 

So she took the dog for a nice, long walk, as promised, and then headed to her favo u rite grocery. However, just in front of the shop, something caught the dog’s interest. He jumped forward, ripping the leash from her hands.

“Hey! Stop!” yelled Chloe running behind him. It wasn’t the first time when it happened and she always feared that the dog would scare, or even hurt someone. The animal was, after all, terribly strong.

Luckily, this time she saw him at the end of the alley, clawing though some package. With a sigh of relief, Chloe headed toward him.

And then she noticed the car. It was parked by the side of the street, in a place where parking was forbidden. The front door was open and the driver was leaning from the sit, is head resting over his knees.

He looked sick. Or intoxicated. 

Chloe hesitated. She should get Dip back at the leash as soon as possible. On the other side, the dog was behaving calmly now, his whole attention occupied by his finding. And  this driver might be in the need of help. He could have had a stroke or something… Or, if he was intoxicated, he definitely should not be driving.

Cop instincts kicking in, Chloe decisively neared to the man leaning from the car.

“Excuse me, Sir, are you all right?” she asked. “Do you…”

There was some movement behind her and the world went black.

* * *

Lucifer was pleased, that the detective was absent when he returned. It gave him a comfortable occasion to grace her cooking with his talent again. 

“Taking an easy way, aren’t we?” he muttered, inspecting the progress in the kitchen and grimaced, seeing that she intended to use the frozen dough. He threw it out and quickly made the fresh one. In no time, the tart was ready, baking in the oven. As the detective still didn’t return, Lucifer started to prepare the batter for the filling. Perhaps Chloe would be angry at him for intercepting her cooking, but it was her fault, she shouldn’t have been late.

Suddenly, Lucifer frowned, forgetting about the piece of cheese he was keeping.

She was late indeed. 

He put the ingredients aside and checked the watch. If she wanted to finish dinner on time, she should already have been here.

The detective was never late. She had this awful habit of arriving everywhere at least five minutes too early, while Lucifer preferred when everyone waited for him so that he could make an entrance. 

Did something happen? Perhaps she had some problems with the hound that delayed her return?

Forgetting the meal, Lucifer cleaned his hands and reached for the phone, calling the detective. The first signal... the second… he waited with growing premonition he is waiting in vain. 

The detective did not reply. 

Despite logic, he tried again and again… By the fourth attempt, there was no calling signal in the speaker. The call went directly to the voicemail as if she switched off the phone.

Was she angry at him?

The devil checked the message from her. It was so… casual, ended with that cheerful smiley… nothing indicated that the detective was angry or scared, or trying to avoid him…

The signal of the oven indicated, that the tart was ready. Lucifer absently switched it off, simultaneously making another call.

“Mazikeen,” he asked as soon as she answered the call, “Have you seen the detective?”

“Yesterday, when you were herding her upstairs,” snorted the demon. “Did you finally hit the sheets? What’s wrong? She didn’t like it?”

“She is missing,” replied Lucifer curtly. 

“How long?” asked sharply Mazikeen. He heard her running up the stairs from her apartment.

“She should be here… at least half an hour ago.”

“That’s not much.” Mazikeen’s voice sounded both in the speaker and in the room, as was just entering the apartment. She disconnected the call and looked around,as if looking for clues. “She might have gone shopping and something stopped her.”

“Yes. Yes, that’s possible,” agreed Lucifer, but his anxiety was still growing, with each passing second. Anxiety? No, it was a warning, almost palpable in the air around him. A premonition, that was bound to fulfil. 

“No, Mazikeen, something happened,” he stated decisively. “She is in danger.”

The demoness nodded. “The hound?”

“With her, I hope.”

Lucifer breathed slowly, trying to calm down. Half an hour, it wasn’t much. The detective was a grown-up person. No human would be worried  about such delay. 

But he was not human.

“Guess it is time to stop playing at being mortal,” he muttered and exited at the terrace. Then, facing the cloudless sky over Los Angeles, he concentrated, using the skill that Amenadiel lost and tried to feel, whether any of his siblings entered recently the Earthly plane.

They were always his primary suspects.

Having found nothing at first glance, the devil reached deeper.

He opened his wings, channe l ling their  energy , and focused his power to track down the beings both celestial and hellish, in the city and in  a  far radius around it. The air around him grew cooler and smelled with ozone, and perhaps a few sparks burst out in the air when he read the traces of non-human energy. He  spot ted a few demons – Mazikeen the strongest of all, shining like a dark star – but most of them were just some little wicked creatures, trying to keep low-profile, hoping to remain undisturbed. Apart from that, a few hybrids, usually even unaware of their origins. There was nothing new and nothing suspicious. He met most of the creatures from other planes living in LA and none of them would dare to cross him. 

“I believe there was no… extraterrestrial interference,” he said turning to Mazikeen. The demoness wiped a smear of blood from under her nose. The energy he excluded during his research must have taken its toll on her. “And I have found the hound. A few streets from Lux, near this grocery the detective likes to visit.”

“She might be with him, waiting in a queue, or something,” said hopefully Mazikeen. “I will check,” she offered and disappeared, not on the stairs or elevator, but in a whiff of black smoke – something she did only in the utmost hurry.

Lucifer only shook his head. Every nerve in his body told him, that the detective was not near the Lux, doing shopping. She was in danger and he needed to hurry. That was what his instinct told him, and the instinct of the devil shouldn’t be ignored. 

The most probably, neither celestial nor demonic beings took part in the detective’s disappearance. If someone raised the hand at the detective, it must have been a human.

This enemy of her, probably.

Actually, this was not a good news. It made her more difficult to find. Anyone from the Host, or from the Below, would contact him sooner or later, but humans?...

Humans were like ants.

Lucifer’s frowned deepened and the room around him grew a bit darker. 

For a moment, he was at the verge of spira l ling into the darkness. Struggling to calm down, he folded back his wings and reached for the phone. 

Just to be sure, he tried calling  the detective once again, but the call went of course straight to the voicemail. He called Ella and Linda then, trying to sound as casual as possible while asking whether they heard from the detective recently, but neither of them  had  heard from her  for a few days.

“I found the hound,” stated Mazikeen, materializing herself in the middle of the living space, with the Hellhound in his earthly glamour by her side. “He was searching for her. He… he got distracted.” 

Lucifer slowly walked toward them. 

“You lost her?” he asked quietly. 

The dog whined. 

Mazikeen shifted as if to shield the beast, but  after a moment of hesitation stepped back, lowering her head. 

Lucifer struggled to stifle the Hellfire dancing just under his skin, ready to unleash. Obliterating the hound now wouldn’t help the detective.

“Show me,” he said instead and reached into the hound’s mind, going through his memories.

The familiar streets around the Lux… People, cars… The detective, looking around. The display window of the grocery she liked… And then a smell of something he couldn’t read, but the hound found extremely ex c iting. Mad rush toward the source. The nervous calls of the detective – but the smell was irresistible. Sniffing, clawing. 

And then – confusion. She was not around. Not on the street, not in the shop. Not a smell. Not a trace. Increasing anxiety, panic… Piercing  fear and regret. For a second, Lucifer got confused whether he was reading the feelings of the dog, or his own.

“Oh, you stupid beast,” Lucifer snapped at the dog again, unable to control his despair. “Someone distracted you purposefully, leaving that package, whatever rubbish was in it! You got cheated, like a mindless animal!”

The dog whined again, sending in reply a messy, barely legible message of grief and shame. 

Lucifer looked at Mazikeen. “She must have been kidnapped, otherwise, she wouldn’t leave the dog. And she must have been taken her in the car. Otherwise, the hound would smell her.”

“I will check the street-cam footage,” offered Mazikeen and added shyly: “Can I take the hound with me? His presence may help.”

Lucifer hesitated, the need to unleash and  punish , still so strong that it almost took his breath away. At the moment, the hound was the only culprit within his reach.

The beast howled, flattening on his stomach.

He failed. In Hell, the failure never went unpunished.

The devil already raised his hand, the sparks of Hellfire dancing on his fingers – when the memory of the detective playing with the dog flickered in his mind. 

Something in him broke.

“You may take him,” he replied to Mazikeen. “I will address his... incompetence later.”

The demoness and the hound left the apartment moving swiftly, like two shadows,  leaving the devil alone.

* * *

Chloe woke up in darkness, utterly confused. She could not understand where she was, how she g o t there, why was she feeling so… uncomfortable? Was she in the hospital?

No, it was too dark and too cold. And she hurt too much.

Did she have an accident?

She felt sore and dizzy, and cold… and barely could move. 

Surprisingly, the thing that helped her to anchor  back in reality, were the handcuffs. After a few seconds, she realized that her hands were handcuffed behind her back. That was one of the reasons  for her discomfort.

Once she identified the handcuffs, the conclusion was obvious.

She was kidnapped.

The criminal, that was stalking her since weeks, finally made his move – and succeeded. Ah, but she walked straight into the trap. Her memories flooded back and she recalled how she approached the car, whose driver appeared to be sick, or drugged… Of course, it was  a  trap. When she was leaning over the driver, someone must have… The detective made a few experimental stretches and felt the wave of pain piercing the back of her head – right, someone must have simply knock ed her down, by the blow in her head. Hence the dizziness. Perhaps it was still a better option than being drugged. 

_Oh, how stupid of me._ Suddenly, she realized all  of  her  recent  mistakes. She made habits, visiting the same shop almost every day, at the similar hour… The basic mistake if she had the reasons to believe that she was being followed… But the safety of the Lux somehow lulled her caution. 

And then she didn’t recognize the trap, just because she was distracted. How… incredibly stupid of her. 

_Well, let’s see what can we do about it._ Slowly, struggling with a new wave of headache, Chloe raised herself to the sitting position, trying to recognize her surroundings. She was in some cold, dark room with no windows. A cellar? The concrete floor and walls had this unpleasant, humid smell. Chloe stood up and, keeping her cuffed hands near the walls, walked the room around until she found the door. It was locked, of course. Apart from that, there was no furniture.

Tired and dizzy, Chloe sunk down, sitting on the floor again. Whoever kidnapped her, made sure she would be uncomfortable. The room with no light… not even a rug on the floor… and the way her hands were  tied , not in front of her, but behind her back, and a bit too tight, the metal painfully her wrists...

Her kidnappers didn’t like her. But she knew that already, didn’t she?

Still, it was something different, to face unknown, but indirect danger – and be confronted with physical abuse.

_And that’s probably just the beginning,_ she thought gloomily. 

She tugged the handcuffs, checking whether she would manage to slip the palm out of it, but in vain. They were too tight. As quietly as possible, she tugged at the door again, but with the hand s cuffed behind her back, she couldn't even reach the lock.

There was no way she would manage to get out of here on her own. She would need help.

All of  a sudden, the question whether Lucifer was going to return to his apartment today, gained new importance. If he bolted and, let’s say, left for Vegas again, who would be looking for her? 

Trixie was going to wait for her evening call. However, when she does not call, Dan’s parents would simply assume she was busy. They had her for career-oriented, neglectful mother anyway.

Who else?

With a shiver of dread Chloe realized, that very few people knew, that she was staying in Lucifer’s apartment. She  told neither Dan, not even her mother, unwilling to deal with their nagging or insinuations. Ella and Linda knew, but they called once in a few days, and none of them would be worried if she didn’t answer. 

Maze,  Maze  was her closest companion now. But Maze had a lot of businesses of her own. They didn’t see each other daily. And what if Maze got some interesting bounty in the meantime?

For a second Chloe felt terribly lonely. 

If only she knew that Lucifer was going to return home today... If she finished her message about dinner not with a smiley, but with a questioning mark and he would confirm his presence – she would at least know, that her disappearance would be noticed. 

But if Lucifer ignored her message and left somewhere, like the last time - it could take a few days, until someone started looking for her.

_He didn’t. He would come home and notice that I am missing, and inform the police,_ she consoled herself.

But in the past, he used to run away a few times, when they were getting too close. He ditched her at their would-be supper. He left to Vegas without any explanation. What if he forgot about her again? 

For a moment, Chloe felt scared and resigned. She was cold and dizzy, her head throbbed and her hands started to ache.

She was alone and defen c eless and soon she would have to face someone, who hated her very much.

* * *

Lucifer reached for his phone and wondered, whom he should call first.  If  he only knew who kidnapped the detective, which gang, or crime family it was, he would call in a few favo u rs, made a few deals and  probably  get her back home  on the very same evening.

Unfortunately, he had no idea. After all, he was  trying to spot for her persecutor since weeks – in vain. He could only hope that  kidnapping a cop would not  pass unnoticed in the crime world of LA  and he would finally be able to squeeze some information. 

He decided to start with the Italians first – they were usually the ones in for the long-term vendetta – and was about to pick a suitable contact when he suddenly recalled the detective’s morning call. 

Yes. She left him a message in the voicemail.

Shivering with impatience he quickly tapped the screen to get to the recording – and literally jumped, hearing her voice: 

‘ _Fuck! Voicemail.’_ Lucifer stared at the screen in confusion. The detective never cursed. And she sounded… anxious. Was she already in danger? 

‘ _All right, sorry. I just thought it may be… voicemail,’_ Chloe in the recording chuckled nervously. ‘ _Okay, you are just busy at the moment, right? Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I… I got a letter from that guy who is after me. It is just a_ _n old_ _photo of me. Probably a message of some kind, but I don’t get it. That’s all.’_ Chloe silenced and Lucifer was about to disconnect the recording, when she heard her voice again: _‘And about yesterday… Look, if you do not want, we can never mention it again, you know that, right? I would prefer to… talk, but... I am fine, really Just come back. And I do hope you are listening to this… But…’_ she stuttered and after the long moment of silence again said only: _‘Goodbye Lucifer.’_

The recording ended.

‘Goodbye Lucifer’ hung in the air, feeling the devil’s heart with dread, bordering with panic.

He stared at the screen with a heavy feeling, that he did something wrong again… but wasn’t sure what exactly and how could he have done it better. 

He practically decided to return to Hell for her, didn’t he?... He wanted to bargain from Father as much time with her and for this, he was ready to submerge himself in the despair and hollowness of the Underworld. 

He couldn’t give more.

Why was it not enough?

The Father knew. He was omnipotent and omniscient. He knew that the detective was in danger and He also knew, how much Lucifer cared for her. The Father could have  easily  prevented her kidnapping… Why didn’t he?

Or perhaps… perhaps  Lucifer got it all wrong. Perhaps it was not about him returning to Hell. Perhaps he did everything right and the events were happening and they were to happen – in the Father’s plan?… Ah, but in such case… No. Struggling with a gut-wrenching fear, Lucifer tried to concentrate on the recording.

A photo. The detective said something about the photo. Was it a clue?

Lucifer walked to Chloe’s room and found both the envelope and the said photo laying on her night table. He examined it quickly.

The detective, walking on some sunny street, in the company of another cop. Beautiful as usual, unaware, that she is being photographed. 

If that was a clue, he didn’t understand it. 

But Chloe on the photo was still in uniform, so it must have been taken a few years ago. Perhaps Daniel would see something that Lucifer wasn’t able to? They must have still been married then. Yes, he definitely should show the photo to Dan. Besides, he could use the resources of the precinct in the search.

Lucifer  hid the photo in the envelope  and unfurled his wings – he wasn’t going to lose any minute standing in the traffic – when his phone rang.

_Amenadiel_ .

“Yes?” the devil asked impatiently. 

“Lucifer, Linda told me that you called and sounded a bit off,” replied Amenadiel. Of course, Doctor Martin wasn’t easy to cheat with false cheerfulness. “She said I should call you. Is it about the morning? Brother, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like this. I am honoured with your proposal. You searched for my help and I let my personal bitterness take better of me. I will try to…”

“That’s not actual anymore,” Lucifer interrupted him, not hiding bitterness in his voice. “I fear I understood it all wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Chloe. The detective is missing. She got kidnapped.”

“Who? That villain chasing her? Do you have any traces?”

Lucifer ignored the questions. “Amenadiel, she disappeared exactly  at the moment I understood how much I...  care... ” he  said wearily, rubbing his forehead. “I  could have been  wrong about  Father’s intentions.” 

“What? Surely there is no coincidence…

“And what if there is?” Lucifer burst out. “Oh, why do we always have to guess His reasons? Why is He always silent?” he hissed.

“Lucifer?” Amenadiel’s voice in the speaker stuttered. “Calm down, please. We would find her.”

The devil ignored him again, finally voicing the fear, that was gnawing him since he realized that the detective was missing.  “Perhaps Father doesn’t want to send me back to Hell. Perhaps he wants to teach me a lesson…  b y showing me, how it is to… to care… and to lo se... ” Lucifer whispered the last words almost intelligibly, but Amenadiel understood what he meant in a second.

“A lesson of love, devotion and sacrifice?” 

“Shut up,” snorted the devil. “Oh, but that would be so much like Him, wouldn't it? Learning through suffering? Development through loss?”

“Oh, Brother,” sighed Amenadiel, his voice filled with regret. “Yes. I fear that… that sounds possible.”


	13. Matter of faith

The conversation with Daniel Espinoza started badly. The detective was sceptical and only slightly anxious.

“Missing?” he asked with a frown. “How do you mean: ‘missing’? Maybe she was simply late. Perhaps she had some emergency?” he reached for his phone apparently calling Chloe.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, irritated with each second lost because of the Douche’s far too slow mental processes. “I am telling you she was abducted.”

“Voicemail,” sighed Daniel, putting away his phone. “But that doesn’t mean something bad happened. Her phone battery might be discharged. How was it exactly? You had an appointment she missed?...”

Lucifer shifted from one foot to another, his impatience growing. There was no use in telling the Douche about reading the Hellhound’s memories, it would only short-circuit this impaired brain of his and they would lose even more time. For a moment, the devil considered whamming the detective with his power to force him to cooperate, but he needed him conscious and clear-headed - at least as clear-headed as the Douche could be.

“Yes, dinner,” he replied through clenched teeth. “We were to have dinner together, two hours ago, and she didn’t come.”

“No one reports the person missing after two hours.”

“Person? It is the detective,” hissed Lucifer, the need to unleash painfully tingling in his fingers.

He was… losing it. Since he started to suspect, that the detective’s abduction might have been a part of Father’s plan… his initial concern, methodic and determined, turned into despair.

Chaotic, destructive despair.

And the Douche didn’t help, with his lingering. He only kept dialling Chloe’s number on his phone, as if he expected her to suddenly pick up the call, just like that.

“But it is just two hours. Something might have happened in her apartment, or her mother called… or perhaps…” he looked at Lucifer with hesitation, but also with a slight smirk: “Chloe told me once that you invited her for supper and then stood her up. Perhaps she decided for a little payback? She has this little vindictive streak, sometimes, you know.”

“Bloody Hell, why am I losing time talking to you!...” Lucifer bridled violently. “No, she did not stand me up. She sent me a message with an exact hour, then started to cook, then went to the grocery and did not return!... When I came home, there were ingredients she intended to use all over the kitchen! Does it finally reach that deeply hidden detective part of that thick brain of yours?... Oh, and she took our dog with her, the dog I found later wandering alone near Lux. Do you think that the detective would abandon the dog?...” Lucifer looked at Daniel expectantly, hoping for the desired reaction, but the man only stared at him.

“Our dog?” he repeated stupefied. “Your dog? As if yours and hers? And she was cooking this dinner… in your kitchen? Are you… are you now, what?... living together?...”

For a moment, Dan looked so unhappy and miserable, that Lucifer’s irritation faded. He decided, that if the Douche found it in himself and tried to punch him, he would let him and even pretend it hurt.

However, Daniel didn’t do anything, only stood helplessly and the devil definitely was above some crappy explanations like ‘It is not how you think’, so after a while, he said impatiently:

“What matters at the moment, is that the detective is missing. Some criminal was after her since weeks and now she is missing, do you understand?... A criminal your incompetent institution didn’t manage to find, even after I brought you Duncan’s confession!...” he hissed, flying into such rage, that he barely managed to close his eyes so that Dan wouldn’t see the Hellfire burning in his pupils.

He was losing it.

He shouldn’t. For Chloe. He needed to control himself, for her.

Lucifer took a deep breath and forced himself to speak calmer. “A few weeks ago she received a threat note, and today this photo.”

The detective, waking from the stupor, took the picture and examined carefully.

“A photo? What that was supposed to mean?”

“She didn’t know, only that it must be some kind of message. I hoped you would be of use and recognize it, but apparently, I must have overstated your mental abilities again,” snarled Lucifer, his irritation taking better of him again.

Dan didn’t pick up the quarrel only looked at the photo, analyzing the details.

“It was taken seven years ago,” he stated. “Sometime before Trixie’s first birthday.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Chloe had such funny highlights in her hair then. She dyed them herself and didn’t like the result, but they looked cute.” Daniel skimmed his fingers over Chloe’s face on the photo and Lucifer angrily snatched it from his hands.

“That’s so much not the point!” he gnarled. “Concentrate, Douche! That’s the message from the criminal! I doubt that he is chasing her because of the failed haircut.”

“I… I don’t know,” Dan shook his head. “There is nothing more in this photo, just her and that guy behind her – it is Billy Anderson, they used to work together, Probably there were just returning to the precinct.”

“Where is this Billy now?”

“He moved a couple of years ago. To New York, perhaps… Why?”

“It would be something to start with,” sighed Lucifer. “Find me this man.”

“I’ll do it,” said Ella Lopez, joining them. She looked at Lucifer with a worried sight. “Chloe is missing, right? I knew something happened since your earlier call.”

Lucifer shook his head. Apparently, he didn’t manage to mislead with the fake cheerfulness not only the doctor but also the sweet, bubbling Miss Lopez. Her kind eyes were now full of genuine concern. Lucifer exhaled slowly, some of his anxiety soothed for a moment.

Anxiety? No, it was something more.

Fear? Anguish?

Darkness.

He was losing it, falling into darkness again.

“Thank you,” he said, trying to take a grip of his emotions. “But I also hoped that you would be able to track the detective’s phone for me.”

“That’s something I can do in a second,” Daniel reached for his phone again, this time opening some application. “We are monitoring our and Trixie’s phones, just in case. Oh, there is it,” he presented them the screen of his phone. “She should be in the shopping mall in… Westchester?... Strange location, but it seems that she is just went shopping after all?...” he smirked in a way Lucifer found extremely irritating.

For a second he dreamt about wiping that infuriating smile from the Douche’s stupid face with one, well-aimed blow…

“No, she did not. Let’s go there and check it,” he said only. For a moment, he considered flying to the location, just like he flew to the precinct, but again, this would raise too many unnecessary questions. “We would take your car, Daniel. Miss Lopez, get me this Anderson in the meantime, will you? Video call, if possible.”

* * *

For Lucifer, each minute of the drive to the detective’s supposed location was a struggle to remain lucid and controlled. He would not help Chloe by falling into his internal turmoil, would he? So, he tried to think about the search, about the detective’s phone and the shopping centre they were driving to. He sent a message to Mazikeen, summoning her and the hound to the location.

Still, he was losing it, so quickly. Two hours with the detective missing and the darkness was all around him, calling him to give in…

He failed, falling into the trap after all.

Could he have prevented it? Perhaps. He could have guarded the detective better, hidden her somewhere. In another city, in another country.

She wouldn’t like it perhaps, but she would be safe.

_And now? What if she was hurt? Suffering?_

_Dead?_

If that all was a Father’s plan, aimed to teach him a lesson, he won’t get her back. He won’t see her again, left with nothing but a memory of the sweet feeling, that only better souls could enjoy.

Better. More deserving. _More obedient._

And yes, it looked like a Father’s plan. Lucifer left Hell, so He brought a Hell onto him, with no escape this time.

Why didn’t he foresee it? Ever since he learnt that she was a Miracle, he expected danger and suffering. Why didn’t he foresee, that he can be hurt most painfully by the blows directed at her?

If he did… if he guessed the direction this plan was taking… Well, it was no easy to fight God, but he was Devil, after all. He could have hidden her even in Hell. The demons would guard her at his order and no one would touch her.

No human and no angel.

Now it could be late.

Was she already in Heaven, forgetting him in a blissful elation, enjoying the graces of the Almighty? He thought wanted that for her. Eternal peace. Only this morning, he stated it so lightly, so recklessly… He planned for her the fair future within the shiny walls of the Silver City…

Now he would tear them apart again, to get her back.

“Lucifer?” asked quietly Daniel. “Calm down. I am sure that…”

The devil slowly turned and looked at him. The human, luckily for him, silenced and didn’t try to say anything else.

Of course, he would never disturb the detective’s happiness. Still, the idea of tearing something apart, just to soothe his pain, was appealing.

Something, anything. Something big.

He could be a bad devil if he wanted. Maybe it was time to raise to his opinion. Meet the expectations.

Lucifer noticed the human by his side rub his forehead to wipe the sweat. Probably, the air in the car got a bit warmer. Probably, the tension increased.

Probably, if the devil didn’t regain control over his grief, the physical symptoms would increase further and the human wouldn’t bear it, which most likely would lead to a car crash. At the moment, Lucifer couldn’t care less.

The darkness, like the flooding tide, raised around him.

 _The child. Beatrice._ One small word flickered, like a star.

The cooling wave rinsed his heated mind: Beatrice would need help. If something happened to her mother, she would be devastated.

Suddenly, Lucifer felt chained with the attachment to this little creature, the attachment that wouldn’t allow him to give in to his pain. She would need him, so he needed to remain… composed.

Is it why humans bore children, to have something to hold onto in their fragile existence? How… peculiar. To fight off on weakness with another.

And yet, it worked. The darkness retreated. Lucifer let out a shaky breath, finally regaining the clarity of thoughts.

If Chloe’s abduction was a part of Father’s plan, Lucifer’s chances were meagre. Still, not everything was lost. He was the devil, after all, there was always space for devil to bargain.

Besides, Lucifer might have misread Father’s intentions again. He was wrong before, he could have been wrong again. Perhaps Father had nothing to it with it… and it was only a scheme of some miserable, wretched human creature… and in such case, the devil would be happy to punish the one who dared to touch someone… someone dear to him.

“And here we are,” said suddenly Daniel, pulling over to the parking in front of the shopping centre. He appeared worn out and irritated. “Satisfied?”

Lucifer looked at the detective with certain recognition. He might have been an idiot, and the douche, but he was no coward. Daniel must have… felt…. something, on their way here. Some of Lucifer’s darkness. And yet, he wasn’t too frightened to scold him off.

“I have no idea how do you intend to find Chloe,” continued Daniel. “It is a shopping centre and GPS shows only a rough position. The app points more at the parking than at the mall, but it might be an inaccuracy of an estimation. Anyway, it is like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

“I already thought about it,” replied Lucifer, looking around.

Yes, Mazikeen and the hound were already here, striding toward them. 

“Oh, that’s this new dog of yours? Nice,” observed Daniel. “Hi, Maze.”

“Yes, nice incompetent beast, that wasn’t able to do the one and only thing he was brought for,” muttered angrily Lucifer.

“Easy, it is just a dog!” called calmingly Dan, reaching to pat an animal. The dog soundlessly bared his teeth and the detective moved his hand back.

“Well then. The first chance for atonement,” Lucifer nodded at the dog.

 _Search_.

The hound set off. For a moment, he circled chaotically, but after no more than a few seconds, he picked up a lead, dashing straight toward the dustbin.

Lucifer expected something like this to happen, but Daniel Espinoza didn’t. He cursed and ran to the bin, with shaking hands checking its content, scattering around empty food containers and crumbled tissues. It didn’t take long since he pulled out Chloe’s handbag and froze, staring at it helplessly.

Probably just at that moment, Dan started to believe that the detective was really abducted.

Lucifer, on his side, was at the verge of outburst again, seeing the detective’s personal object thrown into rubbish, a physical proof of violence Chloe was subjected to.

And then he felt terribly ashamed.

Here he was, close to giving into madness and self-destruction, mulling over his eternal feud with the Father, considering some cosmic revenge… when Chloe needed him, here and now. Perhaps she was treated badly. Perhaps she was in pain.

Why did he assume she was dead? His own mind, his destructive imagination was sometimes his worst enemy. That’s why he needed the detective so much, with her cold logic and rational thinking.

Without her, he was getting lost.

Perhaps she was his Miracle after all, in more sense than only one.

“Phone,” said sharply Mazikeen, with disgusted expression retrieving another object from the dustbin.

“That’s hers,” replied Lucifer and Dan in unison, and for a moment exchanged hostile glances.

Lucifer rolled his eyes with irritation, but it wasn’t the best moment for the competition who knows the detective better. Instead, he tried to concentrate.

The screen of the detective’s phone was smashed into pieces.

“I called the detective a few times in a row when I realized she was late,” he recalled. “The last call went straight into voicemail. That must have been the moment when the kidnappers destroyed her phone and probably disposed of it, together with the handbag, a moment later. If we compare the time of my calls and this location, with the time when the detective was abducted, would that tell us something?”

“Not much,” Mazikeen shrugged her shoulders, “but if we are lucky, we may have the general direction where they took her. If we find something more, it may help.”

“Wait, how do you know when she was abducted?” chimed in Daniel. “I thought that…”

“I checked the street-cam footage,” replied Mazikeen, saving Lucifer from telling the story about the hound. “The moment of kidnapping was not recorded, but she is in one footage and doesn’t appear on another, where she should be if she kept walking in the same direction. Something happened in the meantime. Give me more time, and perhaps I will spot some suspicious car at the recording.”

“How… how did you get the street-cam footage?”

“Daniel, really?...” asked darkly Lucifer.

Dan looked at him, appearing very lost for a moment, and then shook off.

“No. Of course not. I am sorry, Lucifer, you were right. I am… reporting it now. The whole LAPD would be searching for her in an hour and we will find her,” he swore with determination and, true to his word, started making phone calls.

Lucifer, puzzled, looked behind him, crooking his head.

The Douche was useless, but only until he realized that the misfortune really happened. How was it, that the bad news mobilized him to action, while Lucifer almost crumbled under their weight?

Ignorance? Conceit?

 _Faith_.

That was what humans had, and what he lacked.

Faith that their frail efforts would influence destiny. Change the fate.

Perhaps he could try it too. After all, they have already found a few clues. A few more and they would pick up a real lead… And if Father had nothing to do with it…

“Not everything’s about you,” observed coldly Mazikeen, as if she was reading his thoughts. “This might be part of your Father’s plan, but it might also be simply some…humans’ scores. And then I will find this human, who kidnapped her and… settle them even for her.” The demoness smiled mirthlessly, baring her teeth.

“You will have to wait for your turn, Mazikeen,” replied Lucifer, his need to destroy getting more constructive direction. “Check that parking again. Perhaps you and the hound would find something more. In the meantime, I will talk with the detective’s former partner. If these are humans’ scores, we need to establish their cause.”

* * *

“You killed my brother, bitch.”

The middle-aged, bulky man in front of Chloe spat the words with dark, cold fury. He asked his henchmen to drag her out of the cellar into another room and throw, still handcuffed, at the chair. Now he was looking at her accusingly, waiting for her reaction.

Chloe was taught how to behave in such situations. She should try to talk the man down. Ask questions. Show understanding. Ease the tension. Gently point at the least violent way out of the conflict.

But she was furious: cold, tired and sore. This man, whom she never saw before, had her kidnapped and mistreated. So, instead of easing the tension, she gave him a black look and asked angrily:

“And who the Hell was your brother?”

“You do not remember?” the man looked at her scornfully. “He was a good boy. He had a whole life ahead of him. And now he bites dust, because of some stupid police chick.”

For a second, Chloe felt slightly uneasy. She didn’t know this man. She didn’t remember shooting a…teenager? The term ‘a boy’ could have wide meaning, but it indicated someone very young…

“I sent you the fucking photo.”

“Yes, a photo of me. So?”

The heavy blow into her face told her, that she probably should have toned down a bit after all. However, after recovering from a blow, she kept staring at the man challengingly, even of blood dripped from her split lip.

“A photo of you when you should have some fucking remorse, a few days after killing a man, bitch!” he yelled, losing control. “Thought you would get it. But you what, didn’t notice?... I will make you notice.”

_A few days after…_

Chloe blinked, starting to recall…

“You get it now?” snarled the man. “The shooting at the casino, does it ring a bell? He was seventeen! It was… a vacation job!...”

Chloe looked at the man in front of him, his face twisted with anger and regret, his shaking hands, haunted eyes…

She could have said many things right now. For example, that it was an accident. That such things happen, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, that nothing would return the life of this young man. The revenge would not bring consolation, only destroy more lives.

She also could have said that she was not the one who killed the young bouncer at the mob-controlled casino. She remembered it now – the shooting. The boy. The ballistic analysis.

However, now she also knew that the man in front of her was a member of the family, which didn’t deserve compassion, because they never showed it to anyone. He almost managed to destroy her life. He persecuted her since weeks, bringing her at the verge of depression and paranoia, chasing her out of her job… and finally abducted her from the street.

Or, perhaps, she simply spent too much time with Lucifer, because instead of negotiating or playing for time, she looked her persecutor straight in the eyes and stated simply: 

“A vacation job in the family business? You made your teenage brother a bouncer at the casino… the casino, that was no more than a cover for your drug-dealing operations? Then you knew the risks. If he was too young to take his decisions, you are responsible for it.” She probably should have stopped here, but she added anyway, just like Lucifer would do: “You are responsible for his death, that’s why you are feeling so guilty, aren’t you?”

Pity, that with Lucifer’s impudence she didn’t also obtain his resilience, because after the second blow her vision darkened for a moment and the world spun around her. Did Lucifer ever get such beating for being mouthy?

“Shut up,” the man in front of her half groaned, half yelled. “Bitch,” he added after a moment.

Eloquent was he not. However, he made it up with brutality. One of his henchmen pulled her from the chair to her feet, holding her up by her handcuffed arms.

Another blow, this time in her stomach. Chloe managed to twist a little so that it landed on her ribs. The wave of pain still took her breath away and she started to cough,

Of all the ways to die, being beaten to death wasn’t the best perspective.

Now Chloe should perhaps try to talk her out of it, but she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“That’s the cop you have been after for so long?” a new voice sounded in the room. “I heard you finally got her and wanted to see what was it all about.”

Chloe tried to look at the newcomer, but her hair, dishevelled during the scuffle, obscured the view. The henchmen still kept her arms, squeezing them painfully, but at least she had a moment of reprieve.

“Yeah,” her persecutor replied, with a heavy exhale. “That’s the one. You had no idea how hard it was to get the bitch. But I did it.”

“Uh, uh, I thought it is some ugly hag and that’s such a nice pretty thing. Lemme see,” the new voice sounded with false compassion when the man neared to her and grasped her chin, raising her face and moving her hair aside. “Pretty indeed, at least before the beating, but…” suddenly the man let her face off, withdrawing his hand violently as if she burnt him.

“I know her,” he said, with no trace of the previous mockery in his voice.

Chloe frowned. She looked at the man, trying to recall his face, but he seemed entirely unfamiliar. What was with all these mob gangsters claiming to know her? Was it someone else, whom she shot or arrested?

“I saw her in the club. In the Lux.”

“Nice. Don’t care,” the man who kidnapped her shrugged his shoulders. “You could have even fucked her, but now she is mine and I am going to deal with her.”

“No, no, you don’t get it. I saw her there, sitting at the bar, a few nights in a row.” The other man seemed anxious and Chloe looked at him curiously. And here she thought that all these hours spent in the quasi-stakeout at Lux were in vain… at least she managed to draw the attention of one mobster.

“She lives there. She is the owner’s girlfriend,” added the man and the nervous tone in his voice increased.

“I know. I told you, that she was hiding in the night club. Very good security. But I…”

“You didn’t say it was the Lux!” shouted the man, now sounding just panicked.

After this outburst, they froze in silence, the mobster staring at each other and at Chloe, and the detective – quietly praying that Lux wouldn’t be involved in some illegal mob transactions.

Finally, Chloe was shoved at the chair again, her bruised limbs protesting painfully – and two men stepped aside, starting a quarrel in a heated whisper. The detective did her best to overhear their conversation, but she caught no more than a few sentences: ‘ _…What? Don’t know the guy… Bollocks. No man could...’, ‘… with my own eyes…’,’… crazy. You are crazy… I have been waiting too long… I am not letting her out…’, ‘…fucking suicide…’, ‘…not your fucking business…’._

The conversation slowly transformed into the exchange of nervously whispered profanities and Chloe with a surprise understood, that the second gangster was apparently afraid of Lucifer.

That came as a big surprise. How could anyone be afraid of Lucifer? He was all charm and courtesy, smoothing his way through life with smiles, bribes and his net of contacts.

Of course, sometimes he had these… self-control issues. A few suspects, who were subjected to Lucifer’s fits of rage, were indeed afraid of him… but they were simply unhinged, like Jimmy Barnes, weren’t they? And these incidents happened only during their investigations. Otherwise… Chloe saw with her own eyes, how Lucifer, so enraged at the perspective of losing the Lux, didn’t try to bully the demolition team, throwing a crazy party for them instead.

So why all of the sudden did he have such reputation among the mob? Because the man who recognized her in the Lux seemed terrified. On the other hand, he didn’t manage to convince his bent on vengeance colleague to release her.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” he called finally, raising his hands. “But I do not want to have anything to do with it.” He swirled around the room and throw one last look at Chloe. It was almost apologetic.

The detective didn’t place much hope in him, but still felt stung of disappointment, seeing that he gave up. She couldn’t deny herself the satisfaction of looking at the man with the creepiest smile she could muster and saying:

“Are you sure that would be enough? When he finds you?...”

The impression her words made on the mobster was striking. His eyes went wide with terror and he froze for a moment as if caught in some awful vision.

As if he believed that Lucifer was a real devil.

Unfortunately, the moment of Chloe’s satisfaction was short-lasting. Her kidnapper was apparently impervious to whatever frightened his superstitious colleague. He shovelled him aside and grabbed painfully her hair, pulling her up from the chair.

“I told you to shut up, did I not?” he snarled.

Chloe thought that he was going to kill her now, and telling she wasn’t scared would be a lie. All her life, all the things she wanted to do, should have done suddenly passed before her eyes, together with the feeling of the absolute helplessness.

But her kidnapper only pushed her again toward his henchmen. “A few days in all alone so that you could reconsider your past,” he said. “And do not think we are going to feed you. Perhaps you won’t be so mouthy after that.”

Chloe didn’t reply, for a moment feeling almost relieved: she was not going to die at the moment and apparently they intended to leave her alone for some time. She did not try to struggle, when they led her to the same claustrophobic, dark room she woke up.

They pushed her inside so hard, that her shoulder hit the opposite wall. Her kidnapper threw a small bottle of water under her feet.

“Have fun,” he said with a smirk that confirmed they are going to keep her here in isolation for the next few days.

“Go to Hell,” she snapped, raising her chin.

The man only cursed in reply and closed the door. The locks clattered loudly and Chloe was left alone in darkness.

* * *

Dan kept his word. In an hour, the whole precinct was put on alert, all hands engaged in searching for the detective. Lucifer felt, that their concern was sincere. He thought, that Chloe should see it. He recalled, how she doubted her colleagues and their stance toward her. She should see now, how they worked to help her. They were worried about her. They wanted her back, safe.

The devil silently promised to make sure, that she would return to work after her vacation. She belonged here.

Of course, not everything at the precinct was going as it should. After all, Watts was still an incompetent idiot. Lucifer suffered, seeing how clumsily they tried to gather the street-cam footage, that Maze obtained in a quarter. And they refused to take them from her! ‘Fruit of the poisonous tree’, the old fool said.

Lucifer knew quite a lot about fruits and trees, but he didn’t care even a bit more, than millennia ago, whether they were poisonous or not. He simply wanted Chloe back and he would use any mean possible to save her. Mazikeen was already searching for the car she typed out as the kidnappers’ vehicle, whereas the LAPD still struggled to get the complete footage.

In the meantime, Lucifer and Dan talked with Billy Anderson.

It soon turned out that the efforts Miss Lopez took to arrange the video call were useless. There was no reason to use Lucifer’s mojo on Billy. Of course, he did it anyway but didn’t gain any new clues.

Billy Anderson lived in New York for years. He remembered Chloe, but had no contacts with her, except for a few courtesy messages. He also had no ties to the LAPD, or LA in general, anymore. He received no threats or suspicious messages.

Lucifer, after the desperate use of his mojo, which only made their interaction weirder, gave up, letting Dan continue the conversation. He kept listening, but his attention drifted elsewhere.

Dan, though nervous, was meticulous as usual. He managed to prepare a list of questions and asked them one by one, even if Billy’s answers were always similar.

No, none of his old cases from LA resurfaced recently. None investigation was reopened. He didn’t hear about anyone, in whose arrest he and Chloe participated, who would be released recently. He didn’t recall anything particular from his service in LA.

“Just the casual job, pal!” he called finally after Dan asked him almost the same question for the fifth time. “Don’t you know how it looks like? We are putting the thugs into jail, of course, they hate us!... But…”

“This would have to be a particular thug,” pointed out Dan. “Rich and resourceful. And he should have some very personal grudge against Chloe. Was there any case where her role was especially important?”

“Look, don’t get me wrong. Your wife worked very hard.”

“Ex-wife,” chimed in Lucifer.

“Yes. So, she worked hard. So did I. But we were both young and inexperienced. No one gave us big cases,” smirked Billy. “Besides, your kid was a toddler. Chloe was more like… a mommy, than. Showing photos, hurrying home in the afternoon… doctor appointments, teething, all that stuff. You know, your wife… yes, ex-wife, get it… she was clever and professional, but a bit too soft for this job, at least a few years ago. I still remember how she was puking on the pavement once, after some very nasty shooting. The lieutenant was, you know, like getting easy one us. Local patrols, thefts, family brawls – this were the things we worked on.”

“Well, now she is a detective and has a very high closing rate,” retorted Dan with certain rancour in his voice. “But, I think that it would be all, I do not…”

“Wait,” Lucifer interrupted him, his attention suddenly focused on Anderson again. “What nasty shooting are you talking about?”

Anderson frowned, trying to recall the details. “I am not sure but I think it was the one in the casino.”

“Well, Billy. Tell us more about it."

* * *

Chloe sighed, recalling that particular day from her past when her present troubles started.

_On that day, so many years ago, nothing went as it should be. The raid on the casino was a final part of the long term, intricate operation, Chloe didn’t participate in. There was a special team, working out the chain of drug dealers, sponsored and controlled by one of the most brutal mob organizations. The cooperation of a few units, the long hours of stakeouts, the web of informers… Chloe was a young employee, not so long after her maternity leave. The baby required her regular returns home. She wasn’t included in the team, that was working days and nights._

_She only took part in the final raid, just like Billy._

_It should have been quick, precise and safe, but it wasn’t. Someone was not cautious enough, or the mob had their own informers among the LAPD… somehow, they were tipped off. In one second, everything went to Hell. Chaotic shooting, when no team was where it should be and the outsiders were caught in the crossfire. The bouncers at the casino opened fire and the police replied. Chloe was always a good shooter and when the gangster in front of her position fell, Billy called enthusiastically:_

_“You got him, Decker!”_

_Chloe froze for a moment, realizing she might have just killed someone, for the first time in her life. However, she put that thought aside, for later._

_Only once the shooting ended and the LAPD led out the arrested mobsters, she kneeled over the body, looking at the very young face with empty eyes and splashes of blood on the cheeks._

_“Yes, that’s the one you shot down. Your first, right?” said Anderson, patting her shoulder, the gesture somewhere half between consolation and congratulations._

_The arrested criminals noticed that exchange and one of them started to shout something toward her, something she did not understand. Perhaps he even tried to launch at her but was quickly restrained. Chloe didn’t pay attention, closed in a strange bubble, paralyzed with the finality of what has just happened: by her action, the life ended, irreversibly._

_At this moment, her phone called: Dan – Dan who in those days was so supporting and caring, and didn’t mind staying home with the baby – sent her a short movie with Trixie waddling through their living room, her wobbly steps ending in comic fall at the bottom secured in a pink diaper._

_All of a sudden, it was too much. Chloe dashed out of the casino and as soon as she was on the street, hidden behind the rubbish containers, started to vomit violently, shaking with stress._

_Billy Anderson, who usually was neither the most empathic, nor the smartest guy at the precinct, this time behaved really well. He covered for her, shielding her from their colleagues, then bought her a bottle of water and helped to clean her shoes. Finally, a few days later, when the ballistics reports were finished, he showed her the one stating, that even if Chloe managed to hit the young bouncer at the casino, her bullet stuck in his shoulder and the mortal shot was fired from Billy’s weapon._

Years ago, it was a heavy experience, but it got dulled by others, much worse. She would never suspect that this particular case would pack her in such troubles.

However, the worst hits usually are unexpected.

The detective was determined to get out of this ordeal alive and return to her daughter. For a moment, she seriously considered telling her kidnapper she was not the one who fired the mortal shot, but she decided against it. There was a risk, that the mobster would manage to get the ballistic reports and identify Billy before the LAPD would warn him. Besides, telling them the truth didn’t guarantee her release. They could simply shot her down, after deciding that she is not necessary any longer.

At least now she was relatively safe.

None of her injuries was life-threatening. The sting of the split lip and the aching of bruises could be ignored. Actually, the worst inconvenience was the pain in her arms. After a few hours of being handcuffed behind her back, they started to go numb alternately with painful cramps.

Chloe preferred not to imagine how bad these crams would become later.

Did they really intend to keep her here, in darkness, with no food and barely any water? If so, she would soon become weakened by thirst and hunger. And yet, it wasn’t the worst option, being left here, relatively unharmed… It would give the LAPD more time to find her.

Providing that they would be searching for her.

The previous fear, that no one would notice her disappearance for a long time, returned – now strengthened by the gloomy perspective of spending the next days locked in darkness, restrained and weakening.

All the reputation Lucifer might have among the LA mob wouldn’t help if he left…

_If he left to Vegas again._

Chloe cringed at the painful vision of Lucifer making another hasty retreat - perhaps already last night, just after they kissed… just after he, in obvious distress, that now seemed just like panic, pushed her away…

He may have left, just like he did before. Ignored her messages. Remain unaware of her abduction.

And then her friends and family would be unhurriedly asking: ‘Have you heard from Chloe recently? I called and she didn’t reply…. Oh, never mind, I will try again tomorrow. Or perhaps, in two days...’

Fuck, if Lucifer disappeared again, they could even think they left somewhere together… No one would search for her in such case. They would notice only after Lucifer’s return, in a few weeks perhaps.

Weeks, while she would be slowly dying here, alone, in the darkness…

The vision was so realistic, that tor a moment, Chloe gasped for air, at the verge of panic.

No. She needed… to have more faith.

In Lucifer.

 _He didn’t leave for Vegas. Or anywhere else,_ assured herself Chloe.

Yes, Lucifer would return home, to her, and notice that she was missing… and inform the police. And Maze. Maze was incomparable in finding people. They would find her. It may take a few days, but they would find her in time.

She needed to wait and keep the faith.

Chloe sat as comfortable as she could, trying to rest her head on her knees and repeated herself that Lucifer wouldn’t leave her again.

In the darkness of the cold cellar, she tried to imagine that it would be so because he loved her.


	14. The dark hours

“Hi, Monkey, how are you? Have you been good for grandma?” Dan spoke to the phone with forced cheerfulness. He wriggled uncomfortably, trying to sit on the table in Ella’s lab.

Lucifer observed, how the detective was calling his spawn, her shrilling little voice audible in the speaker. He couldn’t make out words, but after a few minutes of carefree chatter, she must have asked the dreaded question because suddenly Daniel tensed.

“Yeah, about that,” he cleared his throat. “Mommy won’t be calling tonight. She had… eh… visited the doctor. No, no, she is not sick! Only that it was actually a dentist… and she got anaesthetic… and she is speaking so funny right now… no one can understand her, you know? Yes. So, she told me to make a goodnight call to you in her place. What?... Oh, yes. Well, she couldn’t have told me that, right. I meant that she… she wrote me that down. Yeah. No, everything’s fine. Exactly. Good night, Monkey. Sweet dreams.”

With a heavy sigh, Dan disconnected the call and hid his face in the hands, before looking up to meet the condemning glance of Ella Lopez.

“Dude,” said the scientist, shaking her head. “You are so awful at lying.”

Lucifer didn’t comment. He wouldn’t lie to the little creature, not about her mother’s safety. And yet, the words of truth wouldn’t pass through his throat.

For the first time in his life, he was grateful for the Douche’s existence.

“What will I tell her tomorrow? She would understand that something’s wrong” moaned the detective, hiding the face in his hands again.

“Till tomorrow, we would find her,” assured him Ella. “Let’s better keep digging.”

“This gang,” urged quietly Lucifer. “The family of this bouncer from the casino.”

To Lucifer’s surprise, Dan accepted quite easily his assumption, that the gang that stood behind the shooting at the casino mentioned by Anderson was also responsible for the detective’s kidnapping.

“This is still a very wide-stretched hypothesis,” he warned only. “We have no hard evidence.”

“Actually, we have…negative evidence, if there is something like this,” replied Lucifer with consideration. “The detective analyzed her old cases, especially the ones, in which she had a key role. She also made a list of criminals she killed in the line of duty and I checked their background. We found no possible suspects. And this case… was not on our list. Nor this young bodyguard. After all, she did not kill him. We never checked either this case or this family.”

“That’s still…” Dan shook his head, but Lucifer added:

“Besides, I have a hunch.”

Somehow, that ended the discussion. Dan quietly excused himself from the investigation led by the precinct and at the improvised workspace in Ella’s lab, meticulously gathered all the information concerning the mob family responsible for drug operations they tried to cover by the casino business a few years ago.

In the meantime, Lucifer was disappointed with another dead end: the car typed out by Mazikeen as the one belonging to the kidnappers, was stolen a few weeks ago. Its last legal owner had no links to the crime world. The demoness checked also street-cam footage from the parking, where they found Chloe’s bag. The car appeared on the recording, but soon after leaving the parking took the route with no street monitoring, effectively disappearing from the footage.

Lucifer took a while watching the grainy video of the car. Was Chloe inside? Did she even hear his calls? Or was she unconscious? He cringed, feeling as if she was so near – but simultaneously so painfully distant, separated from him by these few hours that passed since the footage was recorded.

She could be anywhere now.

Unfortunately, when the kidnappers parked to get rid of her bag, they stopped in the blind spot outside the reach of the monitoring. The devil didn’t manage to see their faces.

 _But I will,_ he promised himself. _I will find them and see their faces, and they will see mine._

However, the perspective of punishment didn’t cheer him up. 

It all would be meaningless if he doesn’t get Chloe back.

A quiet whine drew his attention – the hound curled under Ella’s desk must have felt his thoughts. Miss Lopez, a sworn lover of all animals, brought him water in her cereal bowl and even tried to pat him, but the dog, unwilling to accept any kind of consolation, only crawled deeper under the desk.

That how the devil would end without the detective: he would crawl deep into some hole and curl in suffering, without consolation and reprieve.

 _When did it come so far?_ asked himself Lucifer awed by the strength of his feelings. Feelings, that reached further than Chloe’s kidnapping. Feelings, that sprawled over the eternity. _How much of it was Father’s plan?_

“I am done,” stated Dan, sighing wearily. “That’s all information I managed to get about the members of this gang.”

Lucifer dismissed his reflections to deal with them later. He looked at the board, covered with photos and names. Despite Dan’s hard work, the information was not complete: some names were not accompanied by photos and sometimes all they knew were monikers. Still, these were tens of persons.

“I should know something about big families,” observed Lucifer, “but your customs are different. All these people cannot be blood-related.”

“Of course not,” nodded Dan. “The family has a main role in leading the operations, but there are also … business partners… friends… employees… Each of them could have been tasked with the vengeance. Because,” he raised his hand forestalling Lucifer’s protests, “The young bodyguard, killed at the casino, had a few close relatives in the gang. One of them, Oscar Tejeda, was one of the gang’s leaders and died about a year ago, in prison. Natural reasons, pancreatic cancer. He might have, on his deathbed, pass the task of ‘avenging’ the young one,” Dan grimaced, adding: “It is just an assumption, but…”

“Let’s follow it,” nodded Lucifer. “What about other close relatives? Brothers? How many of them did he have? Names? Photos?”

“Upper row,” Dan pointed at his board. “They are involved in the family business but do not have a leading role. Besides, the attack on Chloe might have been led by some distant relatives… or unrelated coworkers… Why get your hands dirty if you can ask someone to do the job? Actually,” Dan pointed at his board, “most of these people need to be checked.

Lucifer looked at the board. The upper row consisted of few names, the information about them incomplete. They were still wandering in the dark, but at least he got what he wanted: the name of the family that most probably orchestrated detective’s kidnapping. That was a good point to start the search.

The problem was, that getting to the starting point took them a few hours. The devil looked at his watch – it was close to midnight.

It was bloody late.

Checking all the people on Daniel’s diagram, with all the procedures the LAPD was to observe, would take days. The old fool they called lieutenant would certainly ask them to get a warrant. In the meantime, the detective is in the hands of these… malefactors for nine hours.

Lucifer looked at the board again, memorizing the details.

“Very well,” he said finally. “Here our ways separate. I am going to shorten the process.”

“Okey, I am going with you,” replied Dan immediately.

Lucifer and Mazkeen exchanged glances.

“Better stay here and do your… good detective job,” the demoness waved her hand in the air in a slightly dismissive gesture. “And we are going to do some blackmail and terror.”

Dan looked as if he still preferred to go with them, but Lucifer only whistled for the hound and left the room. Even if Daniel wanted to help, the devil wasn’t going to let him take any risk.

After all, if they didn’t manage to find the detective, someone would need to call the urchin tomorrow.

* * *

No more than an hour later Lucifer waited under the backdoor of certain dive in Venice, while Mazikeen entered the place to retrieve their goal. The man met Lucifer before and would probably try to avoid speaking with him again, but the demoness never had problems with persuading anyone to follow her.

Funny things, assumptions. Men usually assumed, that if Mazikeen was wearing a snug, sleeveless leather top, it meant that she was searching for a sexual adventure… whereas she simply wanted to be comfortable, while kicking their asses.

Lucifer smirked, seeing Mazikeen leaving the building, trailing the slightly dazed man behind her by his belt. The devil stepped into the view and the man gasped, blissed-out expression disappearing from his face when he realized that he was set up.

“Oh, no. Not again,” he stuttered and threw himself toward the exit of the alley, only to jump back, falling awkwardly on his bottom, when his way was blocked by the hound, growling and baring his teeth. “Fuck, you also have a dog now?” he moaned pitifully.

Lucifer felt no pity.

He grabbed the man’s collar and showered him against the wall. Ignoring the frightened yelp of his victim, he moved the hand to his throat.

“A boss of yours,” he said slowly, squeezing his fingers, to strengthen the impact of his words, “kidnapped a friend of mine. For your sake, I hope you will be able to give me some information.”

Unfortunately, the man in reply gave him the look full of terror, but empty. Even before he started to mumble his denials, Lucifer understood, this one knew nothing.

“Let’s go to the next one,” he muttered with disappointment, releasing the man.

* * *

“A cop. Blonde, hot. Your boss wanted to whup her. Does it ring a bell?” Mazikeen painfully twisted the arm of the man much taller than she was, holding him in place. The karambit in her other hand touched his face, the tip of the knife drawing patterns on his cheeks. Occasionally the blade broke the skin and blood trickled on the man’s chest and Mazikeens arms.

Mazikeen liked when the dirty job was dirty, and at this point, Lucifer didn’t mind. They were on it for hours, having visited many dives, bars and clubs, and even one cinema. They have… conversed with many people. Mazikeen was blooming, her demonic nature revelling in the violence she was finally allowed to inflict. However, Lucifer’s impatience was increasing, as so far, the results were meagre. Their contacts knew nothing about the detective’s kidnapping and not much about the Tejeda family in general.

So when they finally met the mobster that seemed to know something and Maze started to lacerate his the face with the cuts, that were bound to leave scars, Lucifer didn’t stop her, only, with his hands in the pockets, waited for the results.

His own cuffs were also stained with blood, after some of the previous encounters.

“Fuck off, bitch,” replied the gangster eloquently, but his voice was tinged with pain and fear.

“Sing, human,” whispered Maze. “Quickly.”

The tip of the knife drew dangerously close to the man’s eye. He tried to jerk, but then froze, gulping the air in quick breaths.

“Not the present boss,” he chocked. “The one after the cop was the brother of the former one.”

“The one who died in jail?” Lucifer quickly caught up.

“Yes. Please,” the gangster with the move of eyeballs pointed at the knife, but Mazikeen only chuckled. “Okay. Okay. So, his brother, Joel, he had some scores to settle, with a cop. He looked for contacts in the LAPD.”

“And?...” Lucifer urged him and Mazikeen slightly twisted the knife. It broke the skin of the lower eyelid.

“They… they found it for him, okay?” the man yelped in a high-pitched voice. “He bribed the guy or something. I don’t know anything else. Tell that bitch to let me go!”

“Address?”

“What?”

“Address of this brother,” Lucifer explained impatiently. “Home and his place… for business.”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, I… I have never worked with them, I haven’t seen that cop, I didn’t do anything…” the gangster choked and started to cry.

Lucifer leant over him, for a moment taking in his fear and trying to strengthen it. “Then point us the one who knows,” he said quietly, but the man only stared at him, terrifies, like a squirrel before the snake.

“Useless,” the devil shrugged his shoulders with contempt. “He doesn’t know anything else. Let him go.”

The demoness took a while to draw a long lick over the gangster’s ear, eliciting from him another pitiful sob, and then released him from her hold, kicking his bottom. The man fell on his face, clambered from the ground and, limping, run away into the darkness.

The darkness? No.

 _It is already morning_ , realized Lucifer. The sun must have risen some time ago.

They lost so many hours, just to confirm what he suspected from the beginning.

“That’s so cool,” Mazikeen stretched her limbs with a satisfied smile. “Almost like when we were looking for your wings.”

Lucifer flinched. “We were looking for my wings for weeks.”

An expression of shame fleetingly appeared on Mazikeen’s face. “I got carried away,” she admitted. “For a moment I forgot… but we will find her. Soon. We are getting closer.”

“Not close enough.”

Lucifer sighed. Who would say that the devil was such a coward? That heavy feeling in his stomach, that tightness in his throat, the darkness, somewhere on the periphery of his mind, pushing him toward panic…

The next day has dawned. Chloe was missing for so many hours.

He could summon Azrael. The little sister kept her distance since millennia, but she wouldn’t refuse the desperate prayer of the wayward brother. He could ask her… If the detective… passed the threshold… Azrael would know.

He could ask her and be certain, this way or another.

But no, he needed to keep faith that the detective was still alive. Just like Dan and Ella did. Asking Azrael would deny this faith.

“Now I need a computer,” stated Mazikeen, all business again. “We have the name: Joel Tejada. I will search for his realties in LA.”

Lucifer nodded. They needed to suspend their search anyway. It was the morning, time for joggers and early shoppers. People walked their dog out and mothers led the children to the playgrounds. The night clubs and pubs were closed and the criminals crawled back into their lairs. There was nothing for them here.

“Very well, let’s get back to the Lux. We have terrorized enough thugs tonight. Besides, perhaps we have already stirred the pot too much. If the gang learns we are after them, who knows how that would affect the detective’s situation.”

Mazikeen sent him a glance he would read as compassionate if he didn’t know she was a demon. “Decker is tougher than you think,” she said.

* * *

 _It’s not that bad. So far, nothing happened,_ consoled herself Chloe, desperately trying to remain… optimistic.

She was still alive. The kidnappers left her alone – all alone, probably for many hours. How many? She wished she knew.

She did her best to remain in a good condition so that she would be able to use the chance to escape, once it occurs. Dehydration would be her most pressing problem, so she drank half of the water they left her, leaving the rest for later.

Not that it was easy, to open and close the bottle without using her hands, but somehow she managed to cope with her tooth and knees.

Once this was finished, Chloe didn’t have much left to do.

Inability to measure the passage of time was torture itself. Occasionally, she felt a tinge of fear, that they are going to leave her in this cellar forever, to slow death of thirst and hunger… Of course, the rational part of her detective mind whispered, that this was not the case. The man who kidnapped her would want to face her again and gloat.

Still, the hours on the darkness took their toll on her mind.

To soothe her nerves she tried to fell asleep, but it was too uncomfortable. Even growing fatigue didn’t overcome the nagging ache of muscles. Just as she suspected, with time the pain in her handcuffed arms increased, the cramps piercing her shoulders and neck with unbearable intensity. Chloe did her best to twist and shift her hands, trying to relief the strained muscles and keep the circulation, but it helped only a little. Finally, tears of pain appeared in her eyes, tears she immediately tried to wipe out. She would hate her kidnappers to see them.

_Lucifer would open that damn handcuffs long ago._

Out of all uncommon abilities of her partner that was the one she missed most at the moment.

 _And opening the locks too._ For a moment, Chloe let herself revel at the idea of opening the doors of her prison, just like that. And then…

Oh, she certainly wouldn’t mind flinging certain people around, if she could!...

Yeah, Lucifer’s talents would be very useful now.

Perhaps the other gangster was so afraid of Lucifer because he witnessed the show of his extraordinary strength or this… hypnosis ploy. Certainly, Lucifer wouldn’t be above using it as a party trick; Chloe could easily imagine him in the middle of the dance floor in the Lux, a glass of absurdly expensive scotch in hand, gathering the applauds of his guests with some show… for example, a show of opening the handcuffs, like some upgraded Copperfield… all this wrapped in his devil shtick, of course.

If he had also shown off his strength, breaking iron, all something like this – and now she recalled she saw him with a piece of broken railing piece once, at Lux, when she came to ask for his help – that would perhaps be enough to scare a superstitious gangster.

Maybe he even believed, that Lucifer was really a devil.

Actually, it wouldn’t be that bad, if he was. At the moment, Chloe wouldn’t mind having the devil on her side. However, the time when Chloe was prone to believe, that there might be something more in his biblical metaphors than the stamp of a difficult childhood, was long ago. Even if she was a bit perturbed with a few inexplicable occurrences that happened around Lucifer, she rejected all her doubts after he escaped to Vegas to marry the striper.

After all, the real devil would never do something so stupid.

Especially that he divorced her two weeks after.

Chloe shook her head, surprised, that even now, after all that time, in present, rather overwhelming circumstances – the memory of Candy still hurt.

 _Okay, let’s return to nicer thoughts,_ she admonished herself, and shifted, kneeling on the floor to change the position of her arms. She was getting thirsty again – actually, she never stopped being thirsty after waking up in this cellar – but she didn’t dare to drink her remaining water.

She needed to think about something nice. Something distracting.

Thinking about Lucifer’s antics didn’t go so well, so perhaps she could consider what she was going to do first when she gets out of this place? Because she was going to leave it alive, she needed to… believe in this.

Okay, so as soon as the LAPD would raid the place, freeing her out of this cellar, she would…

She would first…

…call Trixie…

_Oh, no._

She didn’t want to go there. She didn’t want to think about Trixie.

Now the tears flew like streams over her cheeks.

* * *

When Lucifer and Mazikeen returned to the Lux, the demoness opened the computer, starting some intricate search in the databases she probably shouldn’t have access to. In the meantime, Lucifer, to distract himself from gloomy thoughts, reached for Chloe’s handbag, he shamelessly took away when he was leaving the precinct. He wasn’t going to let the detective’s personal things to be tagged and stored in the evidence room as the old lieutenant would certainly order to.

After all, she would need them, when she returns.

The phone was damaged, but perhaps the data from the memory card could be retrieved. He asked Patrick to take care of it. The bag itself got dirty in the dustbin and Lucifer didn’t find it worth rescuing – there weren’t many things more disgusting on Earth than cheap artificial leather.

Lucifer retrieved all the items from the bag, before throwing it out and then placed them on the dresser in Chloe’s room. While ordering her documents and few cosmetics, he cringed at the contrast between… domesticity of the detective’s personal trinkets and the bloodstains on his cuffs.

Perhaps he should change.

Not that he cared that much for his appearance at the moment. However, if Mazikeen is successful and they find the detective… for her, he could look… nicer.

 _…No need to bother her with the gory details of my personality…_ That’s what he said to Linda only yesterday.

Yes, he could take an effort and… do nicer.

 _I could show her my wings,_ Lucifer thought all of the sudden and immediately blinked, surprised by the unexpected idea. After all, he was only considering changing the dirty shirt, wasn’t he?

Yet it was all connected. The detective’s absence, painful but hopefully brief, was only a shadow of her permanent absence later. Only yesterday, he was ready to accept it, to trade it for a few years when she – even if unaware – would be his. Now he understood, that it would be a mistake. It would give him no more than prolonged ‘best-night’ experience, something he could get from any Brittany picked up in the club. Something… superficial.

From Chloe, he wanted more.

After all, she was special. She was a Miracle. For the first time, he thought it without bitterness.

The detective was his Miracle. He needed her back, almost painfully.

He needed her to breathe.

“Mazikeen! How much longer is it going to take?” he yelled toward the living room, quickly changing his shirt.

“ _Bliksemse! Fok die kak!”_ came the furious reply, followed by the sound of something smashed on the desktop.

“Mazikeen? What is it?” striding toward her.

“Nothing,” spat the demoness.

“It must be something if you are cursing in Lilim?”

“Exactly that. Nothing. I found nothing.” Mazikeen stood up and threw her hands out in a frustrated gesture. “I mean, this guy exists and he has a few realties, but none in LA. In New York, Florida, yes. But not here.”

“He is not from here,” observed Lucifer. “That’s why it is so difficult to get to him. This… vengeance mission is just his guest appearance.”

“Still, they wouldn’t take her from LA. He must be using the friend’s house as a hideout… or perhaps he rented something under the false name… Look, we need to get to the local leaders of the gang and through them, we would get his whereabouts.”

Lucifer nodded, refraining himself from displeased comment. Of course, he was able to reach the head of any criminal family, if necessary. It would require a few calls, a meeting or two… Not much, but…

It meant time.

The progress they were making was excruciatingly slow. Each step cost them a few hours. Everything required time – time that the detective was spending in the hands of the mob.

Besides, when you search for the answers, someone’s hearing the questions. Chloe’s kidnappers would soon learn about Lucifer’s search. The devil hoped he would get to them quickly and efficiently, but apparently, that was not the case. If they make a round way, through the present leaders, they are bound to get the warning. Won’t that… rush them? Make them act in haste? Lucifer preferred not to dwell on what that could mean for Chloe.

Still, he saw no other option but to do what Mazikeen advised. He reached for his phone– and at this moment, the screen lit with an incoming call.

* * *

Chloe woke up abruptly. She didn’t remember the moment when she managed to fell asleep and for a while, she didn’t remember at all, where she was and what happened with her. She kept blinking desperately, wondering why it was so dark around her when the memories came flooding in – together with the pain of limbs, numb and aching after sleeping on the floor.

And that damn handcuffs, biting in her wrists. After too many attempts to wriggle her hands into a more comfortable position, the metal must have broken the skin, resulting in sharp, stinging pain.

Ignoring it, she tugged at the metal bands with irritation. Would she ever have her hands free again? Or would they just…

No, she couldn’t think like that. She would not die here. She would get out of this, alive, and, with time, forget it all, like no more than a bad dream.

Only that she… felt so bad. Much worse, than before she fell asleep. Very cold. Her skin was covered with goosebumps and from time to time chills ran through her body.

Was she getting a fever?

Now that would be just stupid, to get fever after a few hours in some cellar. After all, she has been through worse without so much fuss, wasn’t she? Chloe tried to recall some nasty stakeout or some exhaustive camp she took part in, to convince herself she could get through it, but her memory led her astray. All of the sudden, she recalled the camping trips with her father in the mountains. She missed him so, so much. Some part of her would always remain nineteen year old girl, mourning his loss.

What if the same was going to happen to Trixie? An irreversible scar, a part of her forever remaining the little girl who lost her mother?

No. Of course not.

She was, perhaps, feeling uncomfortable, but it was temporarily. She would get through it, this way or another. Someone would find her. Lucifer alarmed the LAPD and they were already searching for her.

Perhaps a little miracle would be necessary so that they would find her in time, but the will.

She only needed to keep the faith. 

* * *

“Yes?...” Lucifer hissed impatiently answering the phone. The person who called him was Pierre, the self-proclaimed French middleman. “It is not a good moment for the business. I am in a hurry.” 

“It is about that detective you asked me to gather information for,” replied Pierre, immediately focusing devil’s attention. “I told you I will keep my eyes open and… someone asked me about her.”

Lucifer frowned. “Did he? Who?”

“An acquaintance of mine… very distant acquaintance… but the one who knew I used to make errands for you,” related eagerly Pierre. “He called me tonight, or rather in the morning. Totally drunk, a bit unhinged too. He asked me whether it is true, that you are in a relationship with a cop now… and how much would you miss her, in case… you know. He also kept mumbling that his friend was making something stupid and that he personally never supported the violence against women. Something like this. So, I thought it might be important.”

 _Bloody Hell._ Lucifer took a deep, careful breath. “Yes. Yes, it is. And where this thoughtful gentleman might be at the moment?” he asked quietly.

“Ah, that’s the best part!” exclaimed Pierre and Lucifer could almost hear his wide smile. “I invited him to my place, to talk about it, and now he is sleeping off the hangover on my couch.”

The devil for a moment felt overwhelmed with the wave of relief.

“Thank you, Pierre,” he whispered. “I will be there in a minute.”

“I am waiting,” replied the middleman. “And you are welcome. You were… generous for me once. I am glad I can return it.”

Lucifer disconnected the call, dazed with the turn of events. It almost sounded too good to be the truth: all of the sudden, they were barely a step from a very solid trail. Generous? What Pierre was talking about? He barely remembered and he didn’t care.

And even if, by any chance, Father had something to do with this unexpected twist, the devil wasn’t going to fuss.

“Mazie, Dear,” he sighed, unfolding his wings and reaching the hand to the demon, “let’s go. We got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, thank you very much for staying with me for so long. I am very grateful for all the kudos and comments encouraging me to keep writing! Without you, I would stop hoping, that someone is still reading this overgrown piece :) We are, very slowly, nearing to the conclusion, though there are still many things to happen in the story. I would estimate it for 6 chapters more.  
> Forgive me the mistakes. English obviously is not my first language. One day, I hope to edit and correct the story. At the moment, my free time is limited and I am concentrating on the plot:)  
> Hope you enjoyed the 5th season and that you are staying safe in these difficult times.


	15. Strengths and weaknesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, thank you for your support! And sorry for the extra long chapter, but it is a whole. It couldn't be divided into shorter ones.
> 
> I guess there is a bit more blood in this chapter than usual. I think it is not graphic, more suggested, than shown, but perhaps I am too insensitive. Tell me, if I should change the rating.

“We need to wake him up,” Lucifer eyed the man snoring at the couch in Pierre’s apartment, the smell of alcohol wafting around him. “Pierre, be a dear and bring us…”

“A bowl with cold water. Actually, make it two,” finished Mazikeen. She leant over the intoxicated man and grabbed a handful of his hair, tilting his head back. He grunted painfully but didn’t wake up. “I think we met him. In some… skirmish, perhaps?”

“Yes, he mentioned some shooting a few years ago,” called Pierre from the bathroom. “He even said he shot you, Mr Morningstar, and it turned out to be… ineffective.”

Lucifer hummed absently. That actually explained a lot – if this man witnessed first-hand the devil’s invulnerability, he could develop… a just fear of his person. The devil, on his side, didn’t remember either this man or the incident. Since he settled in Los Angeles, he took part in a few shootings and never paid too much attention to the bullets losing their impact in aimless attempts of piercing his flesh.

Only after the detective crossed his path, it started to matter.

Suddenly he felt as if each time he got shot, hit or stabbed thanks to her presence was incredibly meaningful, like a precious gift. The fragility of existence that made it worth protecting.

A year ago, when he realized that Chloe’s vicinity made him bleed, he was so scared. Now he was terrified at the idea that without her he would be… untouchable again. Like a stone.

“Right then, I think I will leave you to your own devices,” stated Pierre, placing bowls with water and pile of towels in front of the couch. “Be my guests… and do what you need to.” The middleman reached for his jacket, eager to leave the apartment before he would have to witness the violence… or perhaps even something more disturbing.

“Of course,” nodded Lucifer. “Thank you. I owe you.”

“No,” Pierre shook his head. “Treat it as… a gesture of gratitude.”

That made Lucifer frown. Why did the middleman keep talking about gratitude? True, a few weeks ago he was at the verge of total breakdown. Still, Lucifer let him off the hook just like that, on the whim. No big deal.

On the other hand, if he didn’t, perhaps Pierre wouldn’t set this gangster up to him?

Suddenly, the devil acknowledged the twist in the currents of fate, the knot of cause and effect: his moment of generosity weeks ago resulting in the chance of finding the detective today. How… telling.

 _But Father had nothing to do with it,_ he realized with surprise. _It was my decision. My doing._

His musings got interrupted by the coughing fit of the drunken gangster when Mazikeen forcefully pushed his head into the cold water. She let him catch a breath and then repeated the process. The man coughed, and spluttered, and fought for air, but the demoness obliviously continued, until the expression in his eyes became soberer.

Then she pulled him into the sitting position, forcing him to face Lucifer. His eyes went wide, mouth gasping in terror when he recognized who is standing in front of him.

“It is a dream,” he whispered.

“A nightmare,” corrected him softly Lucifer. He concentrated on the gangster, observing him for a moment as if he was an insect under the magnifying glass.

The human started to shake.

“I am searching for a woman,” Lucifer started formally. “The detective from the LAPD. She was kidnapped yesterday. Do you know, where she is?”

The man gulped and shook his head.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and looked at Mazikeen. The demoness retrieved his knife, spinning it on her thumb in front of the gangster’s face. He looked around, searching for a way to escape, but froze, when Mazikeen slammed her foot on the couch near his side, leaning over him even closer.

“Where am I? Where - where is this French guy I was drinking with?” he asked, stuttering. “Please. I know you are a freak. Please. Just let me go.”

“Concentrate. The detective,” hissed Lucifer, leaning over him from the opposite side than Mazikeen. He caught the gangster’s sight, looking him in the eye and felt, like something in the man’s mind snapped. His victim couldn’t look away anymore, only kept staring in the devil’s eyes, like the animal hypnotized by the snake.

“What do you desire?” asked the devil quietly.

“To be somewhere else,” replied flatly the man. “To never meet you. Or this cop. I am not messing with cops, right? It was Joel. I wish I have never meet Joel. I just… I don’t want to have nothing to do with.”

“But you already do,” sighed Lucifer. “And you have seen the detective. Where?”

The man blinked a few times and without further protests, gave them the address. Mazikeen immediately shifted back and started to check the location on her phone. Lucifer, however, still hovered over his victim.

“How was she? What did they to her?” he asked and the tremble in his voice made the gangster pale even more.

“She was fine,” he replied quickly. “Only yesterday, she was fine. A-and I heard how he told that… he was going to keep her… just keep her for a few days.”

Lucifer stepped back, closing his eyes. “Keep her alive?” he précised.

“Yes.”

“And kill her later. You knew that.”

“Probably… yes, but…”

“Lucifer, cut off the small talk,” chimed in Mazikeen. “We have the address. If you know that he is telling the truth, decide what to do with him and let’s go.”

“He is telling the truth,” commented flatly Lucifer, still keeping the eyes closed. 

“Look. It was not me… I am very sorry for what happened to your girlfriend, but I couldn’t… there was nothing I could do,” said the gangster with growing nervousness. “I didn’t hurt her, right?... It wasn’t me. I gave you the address, go there and talk with Joel.”

Lucifer opened his eyes.

They were filled with Hellfire, swirling and burning, like molten lava.

“Omission is also a sin,” he stated calmly, ignoring both the shocked sob of the gangster and Mazikeen’s delighted gasp. “You could have done so much. Contact the police. Contact me. Or even one of the bosses of your little crime organization. But you did nothing, but to deafen your fears in alcohol. That makes you a sinner, just like your friend Joel.”

He stopped for a moment, giving the human time to cry like they always do:

“Please, I… I am sorry.”

“Yes. Be sorry,” agreed Lucifer. He was speaking almost politely: “Be a good man and do good deeds. Maybe you will make up for your sins. Have you sinned a lot? Pray for a long life than, so that at the threshold of death you would feel worthy of ascending to the Gates of Heaven. Because otherwise…”

Lucifer took a deep breath and let his controlled expression slip, giving place to the smirk of someone who, if necessary, can not only torture but also enjoy it.

“Do you know, who I am, human?”

The man nodded. Tears flew down his cheeks.

“You wanted to know how much I care about her. Very much. If you happen to end in my domain, I would remember, that you walked out, leaving her for death.”

The gangster whined, curling on a couch like a scared animal, but Lucifer pain no more attention to him.

“Let’s go, Mazikeen,” he waved for the demoness.

“To the Lux first,” she reminded. “We may need a hound.”

* * *

As reluctant Lucifer was to admit it, they needed not only the hound but also the car. Driving to the location took more time than flying but, thinking two steps ahead, the car was necessary as transport for the detective, once they get her out. Wings would be more efficient, but revealing them at the moment when she probably was distressed and vulnerable might not have been the best idea.

 _More efficient_. Didn’t get too much used to the feathery appendages lately? Ah, whatever. If they help him to get Chloe back…

“I think I will fly inside,” he said when they reached their destination.

It turned out to be a house, neglected, but quite large, and with a wide lawn around it. Mazikeen parked in a reasonable distance, but there was no way to sneak into it neither through the door nor through the window unnoticed.

“I’d rather not to give them time to take the detective hostage.”

Lucifer reached for the cigarette lighter and crushed it in the clasped palm. Then he pressed the sharp end of bent metal to his finger, with delight observing the drop of blood that appeared on his finger. _The detective was close. So close. Alive._

“Okay, you can fly. Dip and I can do some hocus-pocus as well,” nodded Mazikeen. “So what, we appear inside and make as much mess as possible? I mean, kill everyone around and then search for Decker?”

The hound barked a few times, wagging his tail in enthusiastic agreement and jumped out of the car, ready to act.

“Easy,” muttered Lucifer, getting out of the car. He grabbed the Dip’s collar, to prevent him from dashing toward the house.

Actually, he was equally impatient. At the thought, that the detective was near, somewhere in this house each fibre, each nerve in his body shivered with the need of action. A mess, yes. Violence, terror. Repayment. Yes, he wanted that too.

However, the detective’s safety was a priority. He needed to consider her first.

“Sounds like a good plan, but I am not sure I wouldn’t prefer something more subtle,” he said with consideration. “A distraction perhaps? Luring them out of the house and extracting the detective in more… gentle manner?”

“So what, do you want me to give them a call about the gas leak, or what?” snorted the demoness. “Let’s just go and wreak havoc.”

Lucifer nodded slowly. “All right then. I go first, you follow. Just remember…”

_Lucifer._

The word, his name, whispered in Chloe’s voice vibrated all of the sudden in his mind. It sounded… determined. Meaningful, even if he couldn’t read the intention.

What was it?... The devil blinked, looking around, to find the source, but didn’t notice anything. Only the hound tugged at the collar, whining. The beast must have felt it too.

_Lucifer._

Here again, the same whisper, with a new tone. Resignation. It sounded like a farewell.

The hound broke away from his grasp and madly dashed toward the house, losing his glamour on the way, turning into his true form of dark horror of fear and nightmares.

Lucifer had no choice but to unfold his wings and follow him.

* * *

Chloe dozed off a few times. Each awakening brought the unpleasant shock of discomfort and of realization, that her situation didn’t improve. She would perhaps prefer to stay awake, but the fatigue took better of her and she kept falling asleep.

How many hours passed? She had no idea. Not that much, perhaps, because she wasn’t hungry. She was only thirsty, more and more.

Perhaps she really was getting a fever. She couldn’t tell anymore.

And yet, she was not losing hope. She was determined to survive and kept thinking of all things nice and fair: Trixie, sleeping in her bed. Watching TV under the soft blanket, in comfortable safety of her house. Sitting with Lucifer on the piano bench, listening to him playing. Or listening to terrible jokes. Her job. Crazy girls nights. Hiking in mountains. Fresh air and sun. Light.

In the meantime, she also imagined the LAPD searching for her, catching trails. How they check street-cam footage, find the car of her kidnappers, identify the plate numbers… she imagined it as if she was leading her own investigation. And she also envisioned how police were getting closer and closer, catching one trail after another. Who knows, how close they were already?

She also imagined Lucifer searching for her, with all his sly flair.

She was so determined to remain optimistic, that when she heard the voices behind her door and the clatter of the lock, for a moment she was convinced that it was the help coming.

Only that, the LAPD would make more noise. There would be a fight and…

“Get up,” ordered the gangster, one of the henchmen of her kidnapper, entering her cell. He grabbed her arm and pulled her onto her feet, leading her outside.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem that the place was raided by the police.

He took her to the same room she was earlier – at least she suspected it was the same room, because after the long hours in the darkness her sight didn’t work properly. She got immediately blinded by the electric lights. Her eyes watered and she had to squint them, seeing not much more than the shapes around her.

“We need to end the fun,” said one of them. Chloe recognized the voice of the man who kidnapped her. She didn’t like the strain in his voice.

“They told me to get rid of you. So I will,” he added with some unpleasant satisfaction.

“What?” Chloe blinked a few times, trying to regain the eyesight, but all she got were new tears blurring her vision.

“You are… being sought. The boss says you are a liability. He told me to get rid of you, so they would stop searching for you around us,” explained the man impatiently, only to conclude with a chuckle: “Once they find your body, they will stop, right?”

For a moment, Chloe felt dizzy. Her adrenaline level peaked in a second. Was it how this was going to end? Was she wrong, all that time when she struggled to keep the faith? They will kill her here, in a few seconds, and there was nothing she could do? Half-blind, with her hands tied – and her clock was ticking rapidly fast.

Was there anything else she could do?

“Listen. What really happened is not what you think…” she started, but the man interrupted her with a chuckle.

“Yes. Beg for your life. I will give you a few minutes for that.”

She couldn’t. She really couldn’t. She only hoped that Trixie would forgive her that, but there was no force on earth that would force her to grovel at this man. This gangster. Not even for the sake of returning to her daughter.

And yes, that was the pride, and the pride was a sin, but she couldn’t help it. The pride strangled her throat, choking any possible words of appeasement. 

“No,” Chloe replied only, raising her head. Probably she even managed to smile, because she heard the violent intake of breath. 

“Fine. No need for the spare time then,” commented the gangster.

Her clock was ticking really quickly. This might have been her last seconds, and yet she stood stiff, paralyzed both with panic and pride.

Okay, there was nothing she could do, so she would better accept it. All in all, she had a good life. A lot of loving people around her. She had a child and she has been a good mother. Perhaps she was a bit worse daughter and wife, but nobody is perfect. Her family would forgive her everything she didn’t manage to mend. If there was something she regretted, it was…

 _Lucifer._ Suddenly, she missed him so much. Why didn’t she pursue that shadow of a feeling that was between them? Now when she put aside all her insecurities and doubts, the only thing that mattered was that he needed to be loved, and she could have given him that. She should have given him that.

“Say something, bitch. That’s your last chance,” rasped the man in front of her, apparently unnerved by her silence.

Why should she lose time talking to this man? He was not worth it.

 _Lucifer,_ Chloe thought with regret, that she won’t be able to… take care of him.

She heard the unmistakable sound of the trigger being released and took a deep breath, assuming this might be the last one.

And things started to happen very quickly after that.

Someone tugged her arm, to push her down. Chloe jerked violently, trying to break free because she did not want to die on her knees. He cursed and pushed her toward the wall and through her squinted, hurting eyes she saw their leader stepping in front of her, the gun in his hand.

And then a terrible sound filled the air. Like a howling, but not the kind an animal can make. More like nightmare stuff: piercing and menacing. It was also absolutely terrifying. Chloe got struck with the wave of animalistic fear, wild and uncontrollable.

For a second, she forgot she was about to die, only closed her eyes and curled her into the wall.

Then she heard shots and thought, that perhaps the sound was a matter of her imagination, and they were shooting at her – but the shots were not followed by the wave of pain. The gangsters were yelling and the room suddenly got darker. Chloe finally could open her eyes – but all she saw was a huge dark shade moving in semidarkness, surrounded by an unnatural red hue.

She must have been losing her mind. Or was she dying? Did they shot her and she was passing into the afterlife?

All her courage finally broke down and she sobbed, closing her eyes again.

“Detective!”

Someone pulled her up and for a moment she struggled, until she realized it must be Lucifer. Lucifer, cradling her head, pulling her closer into his soft jacket. She felt dizzy again, with emotions and relief, feeling as if the world around her swirled – and she must have lost her consciousness for a moment, because what happened next, was she and Lucifer standing in some unknown room. They were alone: no shadows and no fight around them.

“Are you hurt?” asked hectically Lucifer and stepped back, skimming over her in search for injuries.

Chloe wasn’t sure of anything. With a frown, she looked down at her torso.

“No, I don’t think so. Where?...” she gasped, trying to look around, but it was too bright for her again, the daylight beaming through the windows.

“That’s the house you were kept in, Detective,” explained quickly Lucifer, as if feeling her confusion. “The ground level. You were kept in the cellar under the garage. Your kidnappers are still there, Mazikeen is taking care of them.”

Chloe sighed with relief. Lucifer’s words anchored her back in the reality. She wasn’t crazy and she wasn’t dead. She was kidnapped, her friends saved her and she finally was free, so, to start with…

“Can you do something about that?” she asked hopefully, pointing at the handcuffs.

Lucifer gasped with outrage and reached behind her, breaking the chain in one move. Chloe’s arms finally were free. She moaned with relief, and then with pain when the wave of phantom needles pierced her muscles.

“Oh, detective, I am so sorry,” lamented Lucifer, trying to rub her shoulders. His fingers quickly hovered over the metal cuffs still surrounding her wrists – and she still didn’t notice how he did it, but the locks opened and cuffs fell down with a clatter. Lucifer froze for a moment, watching her wrists: “Detective, I am sorry that it took so long. I was trying to find you sooner.”

“You were searching for me,” replied Chloe in utter bliss. “You didn’t go to Vegas.”

“What Vegas?” Lucifer looked at her alarmed and touched her forehead. “Detective, you have a fever!”

“No, I am fine,” she shook her head. “It is just… you were really searching for me.”

“Of course I did,” he touched her forehead again. “We need to take you to the hospital.”

“There is no need. I feel well.”

She felt more than well, she felt fantastic. She didn’t die, she was alive and free and Lucifer was looking at her with the most touching care in his eyes.

Okay, she got a little gap on what happened a few minutes ago. How exactly did she get here? Did she faint? Did she have some kind of hallucinations down there? That black shadow in a red hue, was it some stress-induced figment of her imagination? All that Lucifer said, was that Maze…

Ah, Maze. Down there, with this gangsters.

The detective decided to stick to something she familiar and deal with inexplicable later.

“We need to help Maze,” she decided and turned to find the stairs to the cellar. Unfortunately, her eyes failed her again and she stumbled over the edge of the couch. She wavered, trying to regain balance, surprised with how weak and dizzy she suddenly felt.

“Okay,” she said, a bit subdued. “Maybe you go and help her, and I will wait here.”

* * *

_Lovely._ Lucifer literally jumped at detective’s proposal. Help Maze? Oh, yes, he could help her.

Nor that Maze - and the hound - needed help. The cellar was sound-proofed – doubtlessly by the gangsters, so that they could to torture their prisoners undisturbed – and the detective didn’t hear the sounds coming from there. However, Lucifer heard them well and was impressed.

Actually, all that he heard now was whining. It was not the hound who whined. 

But he could always join the fun. The demons and a tendency to rush the things and these people down there deserved a more sophisticated approach. And the detective so nicely offered to wait here, away from the mess. He could be a bad devil, for a few minutes.

He could thank them for the blood on Chloe’s wrists.

The need for violence, for retaliation, that has been simmering in him since the first moment he realized the detective was abducted, flared up, ready to burst in a Hellfire. These men hurt Chloe. They also hurt him. They thought they can mess with the devil and take something from him. Now he could punish them, he could hear they cry and beg, and he wanted that so, so much… It was good, that the detective was not up to returning downstairs, so he would not have to hold back.

 _Wait_. How could he even think something like that? It was good that she was feeling bad? No, it wasn’t. She was the most important. More than punishing these sinners downstairs. He spent hours searching for her so desperately, he would not be leaving her now, not even for a moment. 

The devil in him would have to wait.

“We will take you to the hospital,” he said gently, trying to pick her up, but she stepped back.

“I can walk. And Maze needs help.”

“Maze will be fine. She is not alone,” replied decisively Lucifer and opened the door, leading Chloe outside. Her eyes must have still been sensitive, because once they exited into the sunshine, she stumped at the threshold. He tried to pick her up again, and this time she didn’t protest, only snuggled, hiding the face in his jacket.

For a moment, Lucifer thought his heart would melt. How good, that he stayed with her. Punishing these criminals, though justified and necessary, wouldn’t be as… satisfying as keeping the detective cradled in his arms.

“What do you mean – not alone?” she asked, her voice a bit dim through the fabric. “Did you brought some help?”

“We tried to get you out as safely as possible,” replied cautiously Lucifer, carrying her to the car. “As soon as we learnt where they keep you… I tried to avoid the situation when those miscreants would take you hostage.” That was all true, after all.

“Ah, yes - you have organized some distraction, right?” called the detective. “Now I understand: that was some kind of trick? That… howling sound… and the lights going off? Maze switched them off, like when we were attacked by the Chicanos?”

Lucifer thought very carefully of his next words.

“I thought that distraction would be a good idea, but things got out of hand.”

So they did. He followed the hound blindly, landing in the room already darkened by the presence of the Hellish beast in its full demonic shape. The hound was raging, the gangsters yelling and shooting. Luckily, they were aiming at the dog, as if the bullets could hurt the creature of shadows. Lucifer doubted whether they noticed his sudden appearance. Probably the wings… but it didn’t’ matter. He cared only for the detective. When he gathered her from the floor, not sure, whether she wasn’t shot… all that matter was her safety. He flew them upstairs, determined to get her out as quickly as possible, even if she was to see his wings…

But she didn’t. She didn’t saw them… and now her mind was working on ordering her memories and explaining them in the acceptable, rational manner.

That was perhaps for the best.

“But how we got upstairs?” asked the detective, frowning. “I don’t remember anything. Did I faint?”

“I took you… out of this cellar.”

“Yes, but…” the detective hesitated, but then shook her head, frown disappearing from her face. “I must have fainted.”

Lucifer didn’t have to either confirm, or deny it, because in the meantime, they reached the car. He helped the detective to take the seat. She kept squinting his eyes, so he reached to the gloves compartment for his sunglasses. The detective accepted them gratefully, sighing with relief.

“Thank you. It was… so dark there,” she said. There was a strangely lost tone in her voice, that Lucifer felt worried about, but he left that for later. At the moment, he had to take care of her physical needs. Lucifer retrieved from the compartment a small bottle of mineral water. “Do you want to?...”

“Yes,” she reached for the bottle with relief that almost made him return to the house after all, to have a chat with her kidnappers.

However, Chloe’s fingers slipped over the cap, when she tried to open the bottle, so he took it and opened for her – and his anger dissipated again, giving place to tenderness.

“Are you sure, Maze will be fine? How is she going to return, if we take a car?” asked the detective, when he started the engine.

“Positive,” nodded Lucifer. “She will be fine and she will call the police to make an arrest. They should give her a ride.” Of course, providing that there will be enough of them left for the police to take care of.

The detective accepted his explanation and for a moment relaxed, stretching on the seat more comfortably. However, after a few seconds she straightened, put on alert again.

“I need to call Trixie.”

“She doesn’t know. Daniel called her yesterday and covered for your absence.”

Chloe remained motionless for a moment. Even the sunglasses didn’t cover the confused expression on her face.

“Just how long was it?” she asked uncertainly.

“Right, I should have started with that. About twenty four hours, Detective.”

Chloe slowly shook her head and laughed in disbelief, but also slightly ashamed. “I thought it was longer. Okay, so I will call her in the evening as if nothing happened.” She leaned back on the seat again. “Felt like ages,” she muttered to herself. “I thought I was stronger.”

Stronger? Lucifer remained silent for a while, casting a quick glance at her. In the daylight, he could clearly see, that this predicament took the toll on her. She appeared… exhausted, her cheery bravado from earlier giving place to weariness. It was a good decision, to take her to the hospital as soon as possible. She must have been dehydrated… and manhandled. Lucifer with a frown took in the bruises on her face, the welts on her wrists.

Physically, he was so much stronger. He could crash in one hand these metal cuffs that cut her skin. His bruises – if a human would manage to bruise him – would heal in an hour.

Compared to him, she was so frail. Like butterfly.

And yet, even if so vulnerable, she remained hopeful and determined. He was the one constantly falling into despair, like into an abyss. He was the one needing her to… keep the faith.

“You are the strongest person I know,” he said earnestly. “I am impressed.”

She sent him a smile, and even tried to slip the sunglasses, to look him in the eye. “Me? No. Not this time, anyway. This time all I did was to sit and hope, that you would search for me and find me.”

She said it jokingly, but at the same moment her soul… shined.

Lucifer felt it, so clearly, like on that evening in the Lux, when she came to ask for his help and they made a deal. She was shining again, like a star. Her inner light, dulled by depression and doubt, returned even stronger. She rebuilt it around a new foundation: him. It was the faith in him, that made her strong.

He was only partially right a moment before; he needed her, but she also needed him.

The sudden burden of responsibility almost took his breath away.

* * *

Chloe remembered the hours in a hospital like a blur of voices and faces. Her euphoria after being freed evaporated, leaving her tired and bruised, not only physically. She knew she was simply falling from the adrenaline high. She had been through something like this in the past, but this time it was worse. This time, at the verge of emptiness and exhaustion, waited fears, she tried to keep at bay during these lonely hours when she was imprisoned in darkness. Now they returned and tried to grasp at her.

Each time, when fatigue took her over, she recalled threats, hit. Possibilities. What could have happened. What could they have done to her. It wasn’t the first time when she was exposed to violence, but earlier she always could fight back. This time, she had been so helpless.

She tried not to think about it. Ignore it, concentrate on the tasks at hand. Hospital. Examinations. She tried to remain focused. To answer the questions coherently.

Lucifer was very helpful, making sure she would be well taken care of. Despite his aversion to the paperwork, he filled in all her medical documentation. If Chloe had not been so tired, she would perhaps find it a bit strange, that he knew all her personal data, SSN including, but he only mentioned something about eidetic memory. Besides, Chloe was relieved she didn’t have to do it herself. Her arms were still hurting and her mind was… foggy.

Dan and Ella arrived at the hospital. They both looked happy to see her and shaken with what happened to her. Chloe was grateful for their support – or rather, she would be grateful if she hadn’t been so tired. Some part of her wanted only to go to her bed and sleep for ages.

To her bed at Lux.

Somehow, she felt better when Lucifer was near. His presence kept the unwanted flashes of memories away.

However, Dan came also in an official capacity - to take her statement. She needed to reply to his questions. In the end, she asked him about Maze and the situation in the house she was kept in, but he muttered only: “It’s a mess,” and “Maze is fine,” and was reluctant to give any further explanations. Chloe, on her side, found it difficult to ask about details.

She didn’t want to return there. She didn’t want to hear about these men anymore. All she wanted was to hide her head under the blanket and sleep.

And take a shower before that.

Unfortunately, hospital procedures prolonged. They x-rayed her, and made her CT, and then attached her to the drip infusion. Chloe tried to bear it patiently, knowing that by any shadow of doubt they would leave her for the night, but she was feeling worse and worse with each passing minute.

She was cold and tired, and they told Lucifer to wait outside.

For a moment, she considered asking for his presence, but decided against it, because any sign of emotional disorder would earn her the visit of a psychologist.

Finally, when it seemed that she was getting near to be released, she made a mistake. When the nurse wanted to bandage her wrists, Chloe told her not to bother, because she would need to take shower as soon as possible anyway. She must have said it in a wrong way, because after a few concerned glances she was asked to wait for the consultation with a psychologist after all.

Chloe had to muster the remains of her energy so that during this conversation she would appear more or less composed. Even so, she got prescriptions that were bound to impress even Lucifer.

When Chloe finally was allowed to leave the consulting room, she was exhausted. The only bright moment was when, together with Dan, they called Trixie. The girl must have suspected something, because she made sure many times, whether mommy was really fine. In contrast to her usual resolute attitude, her voice was small and uncertain.

It clenched Chloe’s throat and heart with a new shade of remorse. Because of her… mistake or negligence, her daughter was suffering. Perhaps this all was her fault because she was not professional enough?

“Chloe, can I do something for you?” asked Dan cautiously. “You do not look that well.”

The detective smiled and shook her head. Everyone around was so nice and caring. And she… she felt awful. She forced herself to sit straight and calm, but something inside her soul was… hurting.

She was cold, tired and at the verge of crying.

Dan sighed with resignation and walked to the reception desk, where Lucifer was waiting for her prescriptions.

“I will wait for this,” he offered. “You just go to her.”

So, she must have been a mess. It was quite humiliating, to be so frail. However, she felt better when Lucifer reached the hand to her, helping her to stand up.

“Come. We need to tuck you in the bed before you fell asleep on your feet.” 

Chloe nodded, wondering sleepily how was it, that in his presence her fears faded. 

Maybe he was the devil after all and all the evil preferred to stay away from him. Or maybe, these were endorphins, because she was in love.

She let him lead her out and seat in the car – and fell asleep as soon as they started to drive.

* * *

Lucifer, while driving, kept casting glances at the detective sleeping in the seat by his side. When they stopped at red lights, he corrected the strand of hair falling on her face. Her skin seemed cold, so he covered her with his jacket. The urge to take care of her was overwhelming. He needed to make sure she was comfortable and safe and – how peculiar – he specifically needed to do it himself.

Strange. The devil didn’t have a caring nature. For example, he saved Mazikeen’s life, more times than the demon would like to admit. However, his assistance ended after making sure that she will survive. Then he left her to lick her wounds until she would be fine enough to join him for the new adventure.

While the detective… Even when the danger was over, he wouldn’t leave her side, for anything that Earth and Heaven could offer.

Besides, the detective wasn’t fine, not as she pretended to be. He felt it – distress, fear, shame, even guilt… She got a lot of medications in the hospital, including painkillers and some mild sedatives, but it wasn’t going to be enough. She told him, more or less, what happened during her imprisonment and Lucifer knew something about being stuck in the timeless darkness. Nightmares would come, sooner or later.

The detective didn’t wake up when they parked at Lux, so he gathered her gently and carried to the elevator. He hoped to place her in bed fast asleep, but when they entered the apartment, she started to stir.

“Shh… sleep.”

“No. Shower,” mumbled the detective, trying to stand on her feet. She seemed so determined, that he put her down.

“A light supper?” he offered.

“No. Just shower.” The detective made a beeline to a bathroom, like a lunatic on a mission.

Lucifer figured that the shower was going to take some time, so once he heard the water flowing, he went downstairs to check on Mazikeen and the hound. They were both at her place and the demoness was making use of the industrial sink in the middle of her apartment, washing blood from the dog’s muzzle.

“How is Decker?” she asked when she saw him.

“She should be fine,” replied Lucifer evasively. “We were at the hospital, now she is upstairs. What about you?”

“Fine. That blood is not ours,” Mazikeen smiled, for a moment looking fully like the Lilim on warpath.

“I see,” observed Lucifer. Both demons seemed unharmed and the hound transmitted the waves of somehow dark complacency. “What about the other guys?”

Mazikeen lingered with a reply, wiping the dog with a towel. “Dip said that your ban on limb tearing was not a hard limit.”

“Whose limb it was?”

“Tejada’s.”

“That’s fine,” Lucifer nodded approvingly. “But what took you so long? I left you in this house hours ago.”

Mazikeen shrugged her shoulders. “We might have gotten… carried away. It is been a long time since I had an occasion to blow off some steam. Besides, I got worried about my roommate. She pays half of the rent, after all, and does most of the cleaning,” she said defensively. “And the hound… you know. He wanted to make up for his failure at guarding her.”

“Are at least some of them alive?” asked Lucifer with a frown. The gangsters needed to be interrogated and if there was any trail of danger for the detective left – he had to learn about it.

Mazikeen, however, misunderstood his intentions, because she smiled knowingly. “I wouldn’t divest you of the chance for having your fun with them. Yes, they are alive, more or less… or rather, less then more,” she grinned.

“And did you notify the police?”

“Yes, and that took ages,” sighed Mazikeen. “Humans ask too many questions, instead of thanking, when someone hands them a gift, like a few very contrite gangster wrapped in a bow. But don’t worry, everything’s cleared. Daniel Espinoza is cooperating. The LAPD working hypothesis is that one of the gangsters used hand-grenade during the fight.”

Lucifer nodded again, very satisfied. “Very well. Thank you, Mazikeen.” Then he turned to the hound. “And what am I going to do with you?” he wondered, seemingly lightly, but the hound covered, flattening himself at the ground. “You did well during the search, but I didn’t forget that you failed in the task I brought you here for.”

“Lucifer, he saved her life,” started Mazikeen heatedly, but the devil raised the hand to silence her.

“Yes, I know. I appreciate that. Well, I suppose I will let you off the punishment and return you to Hell,” the devil said somehow reluctantly. He got used to having that beast around.

To his surprise, the hound whined and sent the wave of despair.

_No. Please. Not yet._

Lucifer looked at him with a frown. Did he want to stay? Even Mazikeen, who was much better adapted to Earth, still wanted to return.

She did, didn’t she?

The devil turned to the Lilim to ask her about it when suddenly they heard detective’s voice on the stairs, accompanied by the sound of the soft steps.

“Hello, are you all here?”

Damn, he forgot how quickly this woman showered. Lucifer in one swift movement covered the bloodied towels with the clean one, while Mazikeen rinsed the remains of pink water in the sink.

The detective, wrapped in the white robe, slowly descended from the stairs. She looked much better as if the shower washed some of her weariness. Her hair was still wet, falling down on her shoulders. Lucifer suddenly recalled what they were doing last time they saw each other before this adventure. It was of course very… callous of him, to think about such trivial pursuits in such moment, but…

“Maze! Maze, you are fine! Thank you!” The detective ran toward Mazikeen, closing her in the tight embrace. “Oh, and Dip is here too! My poor dog,” she leant to pat his neck and finally hugged him too.

Lucifer quite wistfully recalled that actually she did not hug him. Not as tightly as these demons. Why these two were getting all the fondling?

“I was afraid that Dip would be lost... but he found his way home, right?” chattered the detective. “Wise boy.”

“Yeah, he… came back,” explained Maze, looking aside. “And we needed to wash him. He got a bit… dusty.”

“But he is still frightened,” observed Chloe.

 _Want to stay. With the Queen,_ the hound transmitted the sad message. _The Hell is lonely. Don’t want to return. Don’t want to be alone._

“I won’t leave you alone again,” assured him the detective.

Lucifer’s eyes widened. Was it a coincidence? Or did she…

The dog jumped forward and started to lick Chloe’s feet.

“Shit,” whispered Mazikeen.

“What is he doing?” laughed Chloe, trying to avoid the caress. “Calm down, Dip.”

“Just allow him to do it, Detective,” stated Lucifer, a bit awed. No one could give a demon to anyone, but the demon could have… offered himself.

 _So be it_ , he thought to the hound. _You will stay with her. You belong to her. Just be more responsible._

 _Queen. Never alone,_ came the reply, vague and imprecise, because the hound was too busy dancing around Chloe.

Lucifer shook his head, leaving this all to think about later.

“Detective, you should better go to sleep,” he said. “They gave you so much good stuff in the hospital, that I am wondering how you are still standing, with all that in your system. Even I would call it a nice Friday.”

“Okay,” the detective nodded and hugged Mazikeen. “Quite the day, huh?” she observed, climbing the stairs. The hound followed her closely. “You must teach me that trick with the handcuffs one day. You have no idea how I regretted that I didn’t ask you about it earlier,” she chattered airily, but the closer they were to her room, the more nervous she sounded. Finally, she stopped with the hand of the doorframe and sighed, giving up the appearances.

“You… wouldn’t mind if I would leave the lights on?... A-and the door open?...”

“Not at all, Detective,” Lucifer replied gently. “Sleep well.”

Then he left the lights in the living room too, not the dim illumination, he used for evenings, but the brighter ones, so that the whole place was well-lit. Himself, he sat on the sofa and waited.

The detective, tired as she was, fell asleep quickly. Her breathing was even at first, the medicines she got and fatigue that knocked her down guaranteed her a few hours of dreamless sleep.

Lucifer, however, remained alert, listening to her breathing and waiting.

It was well after midnight when the detective started to stir. Lucifer entered her room and watched her, tossing anxiously between the pillows… She was asleep but sweaty and pale… Her breathing quickened and she grimaced, her eyes moving rapidly behind the eyelids. The nightmares came after all.

Lucifer opened his wings.

He felt absolutely ridiculously. Like on these silly pictures of Guardian Angels who wear white sheets and keep watch over children playing at the edge of the precipice. However, the detective’s calm sleep was worth the sacrifice, and Lucifer knew, that even his wings had enough grace left to comfort a troubled soul.

He knelt down by the side of her bed, shielding her with her wings, whispering the blessings in the language he almost forgot.

Slowly, Chloe stopped stirring. Her breathing slowed down and her features softened.

Only then Lucifer noticed the hound, covering in the corner of the room. His eyes glazed over with a red Hellish hue and he stared at Lucifer’s wings with both angst and awe.

And longing.

Lucifer looked at him, thinking.

 _Fine. Come here,_ he nodded finally and raised one wing.

The hound, stiff and tensed, walked toward him and cautiously lay down by his side. He shivered, when Lucifer covered him with the wing, but then gradually relaxed.

And Lucifer wondered at the turn of events.

He started the day as a devil, torturing humans with the help of the Lilim. He ended it, with Angel’s blessings on his lips. And what company they were: the fallen angel, the beast from the abyss of Hell, that had just pledged himself to the human… and mortal woman with the touch of divinity.

Maybe that was what Chloe was needed for, to join all these elements?

Maybe that was the true plan of the Father?

 _Am I never going to stop guessing?_ thought Lucifer almost in despair.


	16. Phoenix

Some time ago, when Lucifer was still a full-time ruler of his gloomy domain and his visits on the Earth were nothing more but shallow streams of superficial experiences, he liked to visit China.

It was probably because of the dragons. In those times, Europeans had a nasty habit of painting the ridiculous images of him and his brother. He was shown as a dragon, and Michael as a blond knight in shiny armour, piercing him with a spear or a sword. Hard to tell, which was more absurd. Michael was not blond, he never wore an armour and actually, he was the one speared, his shoulder crippled till today.

And, of course, Lucifer wasn’t a dragon.

He found it quite refreshing, that in China a dragon was a symbol of prosperity, not of sin. Of happiness, power and goodness.

Yes, he enjoyed that. On such conditions, he could adopt this descendant of poor dumb dinosaurs as his symbol.

And in China there were dragons all around – carved in stone on the pillars of temples, worshipping deities that had nothing to do with his family drama. Pained on silk or paper, with black ink or colourful minerals. Their eyes were flaming red and no one minded it. The dragons were shown in theatres, carried on the streets during festivities and forged on the armours and weapons of the warriors. And on the silver or jade jewellery, adorning the smooth skin and raven hair of the quiet beauties.

Lucifer liked that all.

One day he came across that craftsman – an artist – and his workshop. Even if the general style of decors in China those days was too… overloaded to his liking, the works of that man were little masterpieces, elegant and tasteful.

It was a dragon that originally caught his eye – a silver hairpin of unique beauty, that immediately made him want to own it. However, it was a part of two pieces set. The second, matching hairpin, had a form of a phoenix. Lucifer bought both – two pieces of silver twisted and polished into the graceful images of the mythical creatures. For him, their fastenings were changed, to transform them into brooches. Lucifer even wore the one with a dragon a few times, when jewellery was more popular, always recalling the old Chinese, whose calloused hands managed to change the pieces of ore into the shapes of beauty matching the skills of the Creator. 

With time, he forgot about them, his attention moved into other trinkets and other fashions. The brooches, wrapped in a soft rug, laid hidden in the black lacquer box, till that particular morning, when Lucifer, tired after keeping guard by the detective’s bed all night, but immensely happy that he got her back, thought about them again.

He hid the wings with a quite rustle and, stretching the limbs numbed after the long-hours watch, retrieved the box from the bookshelf. He opened it and for a moment admired the graceful shapes of the brooches.

This time, however, for the first time he reached for the phoenix.

* * *

Chloe woke up feeling wonderful. She nestled herself more comfortably, relishing the softness of the mattresses and the smoothness of the sheets. Compared to the last night in the cold cellar… that was Heaven. She also felt much less sore than she expected to be - the antibiotics must have worked. She could stay like this forever, enjoying such simple things like comfort and safety… but through the doors of her room, left open just as she asked, reached her encouraging sounds and smells from the kitchen. The detective recalled suddenly, that she practically didn’t eat anything yesterday, not counting for some gruel they gave her in the hospital. ‘Hungry’ didn’t even begin to describe how she felt. She quickly stood up and rushed to the bathroom, to make herself more or less presentable – and noted with satisfaction, that the signs of weariness and stress disappeared from her face.

As soon as she left the bathroom, she heard a quiet knock in the doorframe followed by Lucifer carrying the tray with food.

“I heard that you woke up, Detective,” he said, placing the tray on the bed. “You must be starving.”

“Indeed I am, but… I can…” started Chloe, intending to say that it is not necessary and she can eat in the kitchen, but then stopped, too tempted with the smell of coffee and omelettes. She tried to remember when she last had breakfast in bed. During the honeymoon, probably, and only because it was served by the hotel service. What can be a better occasion to be spoilt a little, if not the morning after being saved from the life-threatening predicament?

“That looks delicious. Thank you,” she sat comfortably on the bed and reached for a plate and coffee, that was neither sugar-free nor low-fat.

“A few days and we will feed you up,” commented Lucifer with amusement. He sat on the armchair, his cup in hand. 

“I still owe you a dinner,” Chloe recalled the quiche she didn’t get to finish. 

“Fine, but this time let me do the shopping,” replied Lucifer quickly.

They both snorted with laughter, that however faded quickly, ending with a shaky sigh.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry, Detective,” stated Lucifer sadly. “I did my best to protect you, and still some little miscreant managed to… outsmart me.”

“Us,” corrected him Chloe. “He outsmarted both of us, and if anyone here made a mistake, it was me, especially that I am a trained police officer... I was, in fact, behaving recklessly. And I would never think, that that particular incident from my past…”

“I know, we spoke with Mr Anderson,” nodded Lucifer. “The good thing is, that – even if more Tejada brothers are waiting in line to avenge the youngest scion of the family, they should leave you in peace, once they learn you were not the one responsible for his untimely demise.”

Chloe paled, her hand with a fork frozen mid-movement. “You think there might be… others?”

Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “Daniel made a chart of this family, it was huge. But it is not your worry anymore.”

“Of course it is. It is my… responsibility to explain it to the end.”

“Remember that you are still on vacation.”

“Yeah, about that, “ Chloe attacked the remains of her omelette with doubled ardour. “I think I will go to the precinct today. To talk with Dan. He might have already started the interrogations. Do you want to go with me?”

“Oh, no, no,” Lucifer shook his head. “I mean, I always want to go with you, but you are absolutely not fit to go anywhere.”

“I am fine. And when I finish this divine breakfast, I will be better than ever.”

“Nice try, but no. You need to rest and heal, Detective. You have bruised ribs, only yesterday you had a fever, due to the beginnings of infection. You would need to stay in bed for a few days, and then tread carefully for some time.”

Chloe frowned, squinting her eyes. “Why exactly did the hospital let you see my medical documentation? Not that I mind it, but they shouldn’t have done that, you know.”

Lucifer beamed in a smile. “I am irresistible, don’t’ you know that, Detective?”

His smile lit the room and Chloe couldn’t help but smile back. Yes. Yes, her was irresistible, Chloe knew.

She forgot about precinct and investigation, and suddenly thought about their kiss two nights ago. Would it be all right if she kissed him again? After all, she didn’t thank him properly for his help. Yesterday she was too tired and battered, but now… could they pick up the things from where they left them? Slowly, of course, but…

… but nothing.

The feeling of déjà vu hit her: here she was, lying in bed, recovering – again – just like all these months earlier, in the hospital, after poisoning. On that day he was sitting by her side too, smiling so tenderly, and she thought that perhaps they would pick up their budding romance… And then he disappeared.

And so, Chloe chickened out. If Lucifer wanted to… to refer to that particular moment between them, he would need to start this subject himself.

“Darling, cheer up, please. It is just a few days of the most deserved rest,” consoled her Lucifer, who must have misinterpreted the reasons for her sudden downcast spirit. “Why don’t you call Daniel instead? Oh, right. I almost forgot.” He reached to his pocket and handed her a phone. “Your abductors destroyed your phone, Detective, but your memory card survived. Patrick managed to transfer all your data and photos into the new one.”

Chloe gasped, so touched, that Lucifer remembered to take care of such detail, that she felt tears stinging her eyes. She had a lot of Trixie’s photos there, not all of them copied into the disc…

“I set the same password as your old one,” added serenely Lucifer.

The detective shook her head, smiling through tears. “That was very thoughtful of you,” she said.

“Your other belongings are intact,” he pointed at the drawer, where her documents and cosmetics laid. “Except for a bag. I would be happy if you would allow me to provide you with a new one.”

“Sure,” nodded Chloe, but at the gleam that appeared in Lucifer’s eyes, added soberly, “ but within some reasonable limit, like fifty bucks. The old one didn’t cost more.”

Lucifer snorted, gleam in his eyes fading. “It is not reasonable, only ridiculous. Very well, as you do not want the bag…”

“I do want the bag,” objected Chloe, moving her attention to the bowl with pieces of fruits- grapes, apples and peaches, all juicy and fresh. How long it took him to prepare this breakfast? “I just do not need anything too expensive, only something normal, something to wear.”

“As you do not want the bag, I’d like to give you something else. Something to wear,” finished Lucifer, handing her a small, silver object.

A brooch.

Chloe blinked, surprised, at the unexpected gift. Then the words of protest stuck in her throat, as she took in the beauty of this small object. It was ornate, but not excessively so, the curves of the neck and the tail of the bird resembling the works of nature, but leaving no doubt, that they show the creature of the fairytales.

“That’s lovely… but…”

“That’s Phoenix,” said Lucifer as of it explained everything. “I found it… fitting to commemorate this incident.”

The slight frown brought Chloe’s eyebrows together. “Commemorate? I’d rather forget it, as soon as possible.”

“That’s the worst thing you can try to do, Detective,” Lucifer violently shook his head. “You will never be able to forget the evil that befell upon you. Believe me, I know, I have tried. You need to remember it, but remember how… how brave you are.”

“That’s very kind, what you said, but…” started Chloe with hesitation, but Lucifer stopped her, touching her hand. He closed her fingers around the brooch and, wrapping his palm around hers, squeezed it slightly.

“Like Phoenix,” he said, “you know how to rise and rebuild.”

Chloe couldn’t take her sight from him. She kept looking at his dark, deep eyes, finding in them an understanding and acceptance she always needed. His words were not only about the last incident. It was about everything: her failed choices, all the turns in her life, all the times when she needed to gather herself and start everything from the scratch all again. Of course he didn’t understand, how she felt about it. He couldn’t understand it. And yet, for a moment she felt as if he was able to see her soul – and accepted everything about her.

Not only accepted. Admired.

“Thank you,” she said only, overwhelmed, the words catching in her throat. For a moment, she felt the urge to pull nearer to him, to wrap her arms around him, and keep him close, listening to his heartbeat… But she didn’t want to spoil the moment with something, that could be misinterpreted or unwelcome.

To mask her emotions, she moved her eyes to the brooch again, looking at it more precisely. It had universal, though a bit old-fashioned design and was definitely hand-made.

“Thank you,” she repeated after a moment, with more confidence. “But are you sure I can wear it just like that? It is not… too antique?”

Lucifer frowned for a moment as if considering her question. “I knew the man who made it,” he replied.

Chloe nodded with a smile. In such case, she was going to wear it daily. Except for Trixie, no one had ever given her anything more meaningful.

* * *

The rest of the morning passed in general harmony between them, but then the things started to complicate.

At first, Chloe did her best to stay and rest, as asked and Lucifer tried to entertain her. He even read for her. It was both old-fashioned and sweet. The last time when someone read for Chloe was many years ago when she was a little girl. Lucifer has chosen the poems of Wordsworth and Coleridge and it was absolutely… entrancing. However, in the end, he added quite unnecessarily, that listening to the poetry should do better to help in regaining the equilibrium of the stressed mind than watching television.

It sounded a bit like a medical experiment and quite successfully killed the mood.

When he proposed to play Mozart, mentioning that his music was said to have a unique influence on the brain waves, Chloe politely refused and started to consider going for a walk again.

In the meantime, Lucifer prepared her a second breakfast, but this time brought her juice, not coffee, claiming that the excess of the caffeine might be harmful to her health. When the detective, quite experimentally, mentioned something about doughnuts, he replied with the small lecture about monosaccharides.

The last straw was a visit of the cleaning lady. She must have heard something about Chloe’s predicament, because she insisted on correcting her pillows all the time, brought her endless cups of tea and finally started to argue with Lucifer which one of them was going to cook chicken soup for Chloe.

The detective didn’t want chicken soup. She wanted fresh air, sun, coffee and doughnuts, the most unhealthy kind of them. She got dressed, determined to go for a walk.

While dressing, she noticed that the bruises on her torso were almost gone.

However, as soon as she left the room, Lucifer chased her back with some lewd joke about reasons for staying in bed. Chloe knew, he did it on purpose, to confuse her and stop from leaving, however, she retreated, to hide the blush. There was no way she could outdo Lucifer in the dispute involving sexual innuendos.

Of course, it didn’t mean she gave up. She was absolutely fed up with pampering. After a few minutes of regrouping, she took Dip on the leash and headed for the elevator, determined to go for a walk, no matter what.

“The dog needs to be walked out,” she stated when Lucifer started to protest.

“No, he doesn’t,” muttered Lucifer, looking at the animal pointedly. “He doesn’t want to go outside, right, doggie?”

“Yes, he does,” hissed back Chloe. “Very much.”

The dog swirled on the spot in a quandary and finally, rushed forward to the elevator, whining and scratching the door. The detective smiled triumphally, amused with Lucifer’s expression. To be that angry at the dog that needs to pee, really!

“Fine, I will walk that beast out myself, if he needs it that badly,” he gnarled bitingly, reaching for the leash. “You are not ready to go outside, Detective.”

“Lucifer.”

He sighed resting his forehead on the doorframe of the elevator. “I am not ready for you going outside,” he admitted. “Please.”

Chloe observed him for a while. Finally, she asked quietly: “You didn’t sleep much?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No since…” he wondered and concluded with confusion: “I don’t remember.”

For a moment, they stood in silence. Chloe felt almost guilty. Now, when the cheerful bravado of their usual banter fell off, she realized how difficult for him this experience must have been. And didn’t she want to take care of him?

“Fine,” she said resigned. “I can stay. It is just that I… I needed air.”

Lucifer’s reaction to her words came as a surprise, his eyes opening widely as if he had just made some revelation. “But of course! How could I have not thought about it earlier!” he gasped. “You have been locked in a small, dark room… We need to get you sun and fresh air, a lot of it.”

“What?... What do you mean?...” stuttered Chloe, but it was too late. Lucifer had already started to make arrangements.

Two hours later, she was sitting in a garden surrounding a beautiful house on the hills. Lucifer said it was his house. Chloe almost doubted him – because how could someone own such a nice place and do not use it? But apparently, that was the case. She tried to protest, but weakly. The garden was beautiful and it has been ages since she could simply sit in a lovely place and admire the view.

And Lucifer stopped hovering over her for a moment, busy organizing all things he needed for a few days stay – and that was a lot – so Chloe could calmly lay on a deckchair, drink in hand and unread book on her knees and relish the fresh breeze and the smell of flowers.

Dip enjoyed it too, immensely. He was running in circles and hunting butterflies like a puppy. As if he had never before the occasion to play in a garden. For a while, Chloe wondered where exactly was he kept before, if he wasn’t familiar neither with a city nor with nature.

And then, all of the sudden, she got struck by the wave of doubt - again.

What the Hell was she doing?

Staying in the apartment in the Lux was… like overnight stay after the party. Casual and non-committal. This apartment was like a bachelor pad, place to party and have fun… fun with no strings attached. That’s what the friends do, offer a spare room and crash by each other for a night or two, and if the few nights turn into a few weeks, there is no one to judge.

But this? This was too much. This was a house for a family, and Lucifer asked her to choose the room with the view she liked the most, and no one was speaking about guest rooms anymore. And yes, she thought, only yesterday, that she should take care of him and that he needed her - but it was when she thought she was going to die. Perhaps she was braver at the perspective of death, than in the perspective of life, because…

For a moment, Chloe listened to Lucifer ordering a supper from some too-many-stars restaurant, who usually didn’t do deliveries. He was chatting with the chef and complaining, he didn’t have seasonings fresh enough to cook himself.

That all was… too much. Too exotic. Too soon.

That was great, that he didn’t escape after their kiss this time, and perhaps they would develop it, but… they should start slowly, not like this. A date or two, to… get used to everything… not jumping at the deepest water and… living together?...

Slightly panicked, Chloe reached for her new phone and called the owner of her apartment, asking whether the repairs were already finished and when she would be able to move back in.

They weren’t and the deadline was unclear.

Chloe got a bit irritated, because how long the exchange of pipes can take? She said a few sharp words. As soon as she raised her voice, Lucifer immediately appeared in the garden – but retreaded even swifter, hearing that she was only quarrelling with her landlord. All in all, everything she got, was the promise of rent discount in future, but no fixed date, when her return would be possible.

“What’s the rush, Detective? So eager to bore in your empty apartment?” complained Lucifer, when she finished the call. “Maze is soon going away after her new bounty, you know. You would be alone. And usually, people do find the company of yours truly rather entertaining.”

A small part of Chloe did, indeed, cringe at the thought of the lonely evenings in her apartment with nothing but the circle of the electric light separating her from the darkness. Yes, it was better to stay here, in this spacious and surely well-lit and in the company…

“And you are not going to the Lux tonight?” she asked, before thinking.

“Of course not, I won’t leave you alone,” replied Lucifer in the same manner.

Oh. _Oh._

It is intoxicating, to be that important to someone. She could get used to it, so easily. Suddenly it didn’t seem too much, it seemed… just right.

Before she melted down, Chloe blinked and cleared her throat: “Thank you. And yes, well… it is not that I want to leave. I am grateful for your hospitality, really. Only that… well, how much the repairs could take? It starts to look like a joke, really,” she was well aware she was rambling, but couldn’t help it. “And I have been thinking about bringing Trixie back, now, when the danger is over. We could spend at least part of the holidays together. And I cannot, as long as these repairs in our house are not done.”

“Ah. The spawn,” blinked Lucifer. “I didn’t think about that.”

He looked confused, flustered even. Did he forget she had a daughter? Chloe’s expression faded, just before Lucifer added suddenly:

“You can bring her here.”

And that was the place where Chloe’s brain makes a short circuit, because of two clashing wave of contradictory emotions. The first was screaming, that it was too much that they started from the wrong end and there were too many unknowns between them, that they should stop, and step back, and think…

The second contradictory wave was more like a picture: picture of Trixie playing with Dip in this garden. It almost took her breath away.

“I… I don’t think… That’s not…” she stuttered and almost desperately changed the subject: “Before we bring her back to LA, we need to make sure that it is really over. Dan keeps me informed about the investigation. Did you know that these gangster had hand-grenades?”

“Maze mentioned something about it.”

“And there is another guy, their associate. I think I met him on the first day. He came to the precinct and offered his… cooperation. You know, he started to pool the whole mob, just like that. It’s like a Christmas gift for the LAPD, had it not been so unbelievable.” Chloe chattered, trying to mask uneasiness, because Lucifer still looked… confused, to describe it gently.

“Perhaps his conscience got the best of him,” muttered Lucifer. It seemed, that he didn’t listen to her at all. “Detective, I need to leave you for a moment, to see to some things, but I promise to return soon. Dip will keep you company,” he said suddenly.

“Of course. I will be fine,” replied Chloe, trying not to ponder too much over his strange behaviour. Certainly, there was something at the Lux demanding his attention,

She leant back on her deckchair and reached for a book.

* * *

Lucifer strode out of the garden and soon as he was out of the detective’s view, flew straight to his apartment in the Lux. He didn’t want to leave Chloe alone, but he had to – he had to take some distance, be alone for a moment before the wave of shame would drown him.

So, he was separating the detective from her daughter now. In the moment of her greatest vulnerability, when she needed the most the presence of her offspring, she couldn’t have it, due to his petty intrigue.

 _That wasn’t meant like this,_ he tried to excuse himself. When he… arranged Chloe’s moving into his apartment, Trixie was already by her grandparents. Chloe was receiving threat notes. He was acting in the best will, concerned for her safety.

But now the danger was over. She needed him, true. But she also needed her daughter – more.

It was clear, that she was not going to let the spawn stay with them in his house. He saw it in her eyes when he proposed it. This was the limit she would not cross.

So, there was one thing left to do: call the owner of her apartment and ask him to finish this ruse. The detective would move back in, bring her child, return to her normal routine. He would, of course, be able to visit her. From time to time.

 _Bloody Hell,_ hissed Lucifer, the very same idea of Chloe moving out physically painful. _But she is mine. She was made for me._

The moment he thought it, he felt even more ashamed than before.

Of course, no matter what the Father’s plan involving Chloe was, he would be the better… man. Angel, devil… Anyway, he would respect her free will. Her decisions.

Why didn’t he use the time they spent together to get closer to her? He was the one keeping distance. Humans needed relationships, to connect. He could have… turned her head, sweep her off her feet, so that she wouldn’t want to leave him. However, he was cautious. Anxious about the Father’s plan, trying to avoid the trap, whatever.

If he didn’t know, what he wanted, no wonder, he didn’t get it. 

Lucifer looked around the penthouse helplessly. The devil loved to own things and relish in the worldly goods. He owned lands, and castles, and gardens… objects of art and tokens of history… things that were beautiful, and priceless and interesting…

Chloe Decker was not the thing to own.

And she trusted him, she put her faith in him… He recalled with awe how her soul shined when she said ‘I hoped you would find me’. If he was her strength now, he couldn’t fail her, even if it meant that he needs to be selfless.

With a heavy sigh, he reached for his the phone and stared at the screen for a long while. Perhaps he could call her landlord tomorrow? Just one more night, to make sure that she recovered? But lingering would be cheating. He could call the guy today and ask him to inform the detective that she can return in a few days. The matter would be dealt with. The detective would spend a few more days with him, resting. Then she would move back, safe and sound.

Of course, he would meet her – once or twice a week. If he wanted more, he would need to start from scratch. Maybe he would ask her out. Perhaps to the cinema, like his idiot brother suggested.

They were friends, after all.

_But I want more._

When you are the eternal being, who experiences love for the first time, it is hard to be… moderate.

Was it the Father’s plane? To make him addicted to the mortal woman?

A mortal woman, but also a miracle. She was a trap and a victim at the same time. He tried to protect her and she cared for him, but this way or another, they would hurt each other.

The need to toss and crash something was overwhelming. In the last moment, he spared his phone at the expense of the tumbler. The glass shattered, hurled too strongly into the stone wall, the tiny pieces of crystal falling on the floor like motes of frost.

“I hate this plan,” he said aloud. “And I hate you, Father. Everything’s about plans and manipulations by you. Why cannot you just… tell what you want?” His voice broke and he took a few breaths to calm himself.

And then his phone rang.

He would never admit it aloud, but for a moment he froze, fearing to look at the screen. When he finally checked the caller, he snorted with a bitter laugher. _Detective Douche._ Of course. Why would the Almighty need the phone? And, more importantly, why would he answer Lucifer’s plead?

“Yes, Daniel?” he asked resigned.

“Listen, uhm…” the voice of the detective’s ex-husband was hesitant. “Chloe called and mentioned that you… moved out? To some other place in the hills?”

“Your point?” snapped Lucifer. The last thing he wanted to bother himself with was Daniel’s tantrums of jealousy.

However, Daniel didn’t seem surprised. “Yeah, yeah… just a moment…” he muttered, the sounds of steps in the speaker indicating that he was going somewhere… A garage, judging from the echo?

“You see…” Dan said, keeping his voice quiet: “You may want to stay there for a while.”

“What?”

“Listen, there are things I do not want to talk about right now, it is just that… There is this guy here, from the mob, who is talking, and… he is saying the strangest things…” Dan’s voice trailed off and Lucifer heard in the speaker the steps of someone passing by.

“What’s going on, Daniel? Do you want me to come over to the precinct?”

“No,” replied Dan decisively. “Do people know about this other house of yours?”

“A house?” repeated Lucifer with a frown. “I do not have a habit of keeping my life a secret, but I have never lived here before, so perhaps… perhaps not.”

“Cool. So, maybe, I will visit you in a day or two? I will see how Chloe is holding on and… we will talk?.”

Lucifer blinked. Apparently, Daniel was trying to keep a secret. There was something he was afraid to speak about at the precinct. The mobster who was talking… most likely that was the one who pointed him the location where the detective was imprisoned.

Very contrite, after their conversation.

He came to the precinct and started to snitch on his organization. And Daniel might have come across something important.

“Are you telling me, that the detective might be still in danger?”

“No, no. I mean…” Dan’s wavered. “Perhaps not her personally, but… I am not sure. Perhaps… a bit of caution won’t harm. I just need time to… to get more details.”

Well, that was a warning enough. Lucifer closed his eyes, trying to hide the most shameful relief. There might have still been – or might have been not – some danger posed by the mob, but if Daniel was anxious, there was certainly something more to the story. Definitely, not a child-friendly environment.

The detective not only could, but even should stay with him a bit longer. 

“Of course, Daniel, you are a treasure,” he said earnestly. “Do your job and I will take care of the detective.”

“Oh, bugger off. And maybe start using her name? You are living together, for Heaven’s Sake,” muttered reluctantly Daniel. A bit of jealousy was still one the table, after all.

At the moment, Lucifer didn’t mind it. “I am not sure about that Sake, but Heaven definitely had something to do with it,” he quipped.

“Dude. You are so weird,” sighed Daniel. “Take care of yourselves.”

* * *

And, as soon as Lucifer left, Chloe realized she was not fine.

She was still… afraid. The memories were still lurking in the shadows, waiting for the occasion to… resurface.

To attack.

_The man with the gun in front of her. The feeling your life will be over in seconds. The pain and thirst in timeless darkness. The thoughts about Trixie, being left alone._

“Dip!” she called hoarsely. The dog came immediately laying by her side, his warm body resting on her feet. It was just a dog, she knew that. And still, some subconscious part of her brain felt… better.

Chloe took deep a breath and slowly let the air out of her lungs. She was fine. She would be fine. She was in a spacious house full of light. The house was secured because she saw the alarm sensors. All she needed to do was to sit here calmly…

…and wait. Lucifer would be back soon. Before sunset, he said. Before it gets dark.

 _And I thought I am a resilient woman. I should be happy that my apartment is still unlivable,_ she thought with a self-depreciating smirk. Yes, she thought she was stronger. Her body was healing in admirable speed, but her mind, however, might need something more. Mozart and Wordsworth might not be enough.

Time. She needed more time.

Chloe sat quietly, trying to control her breathing and running the hand over the Dip’s neck. The animal’s fur was soft and warm and touching him was… helping. His head nudged her knees and the black, so conscious eyes looked straight at her.

… _Her fears were like walking down the dark path, among the unfriendly stone walls, with uncountable door hiding unnamed dangers. But to every darkness, there can be light. Streams of light, piercing the gloomy sky. A beacon in the cold abyss._

Chloe shook her head, surprised by the picture that appeared in her mind. A dark labyrinth impersonating her fears? Was it some kind of mental trick? Like ‘relax and imagine the wood, and it will show, what your childhood was like’? Or ‘to quickly asleep, visualize a perfect black square’? She was never into that kind of things.

However, thinking about that light was nice.

She patted Dip and smiled to the animal, gently rubbing his ear - good dog, he stayed with her so patiently – and closed her eyes again. This time, she purposefully imagined the dark room. Cold, unforgiven timeless darkness – slowly receding, when the light appeared. Chloe imagined a small candle, whose light grew stronger and stronger, chasing away the darkness…

… _and then she saw wings. Huge and white, gleaming with ethereal light. Wrapping around her, protecting her from everything that could lurk in the darkness…_

* * *

When Lucifer flew back to the house in the hills, he found the detective where he left her, sitting in the garden. The hound was by her side, resting his head on her knees. The devil frowned, noticing how still and quiet they were sitting. Chloe could be dozing, she was, after all, exhausted, but the hound… This stillness was strange. Lucifer looked at the beast suspiciously.

If the hound tried to use his telepathic abilities on the detective, wouldn’t the devil feel it?

Not necessarily. Lucifer recalled, that yesterday the hound chose Chloe as his Queen, and he accepted it. ‘So be it’, he said, receding his command over the demon.

 _Hound, are you talking?_ Lucifer sent the question and the beast jumped, evidently surprised by his presence. Wonderful, so now the hound was so blissed out that it allowed walking up to himself without noticing. Lucifer shook his head with reproach, masking the discontent with a smile, because Chloe, woke up by the dog’s movement, looked at him too.

“I am back,” he said to the detective.

_Were you talking to her?_

_Just singing your praises, my Lord,_ came the answer, and damn, if it didn’t sound mocking.

“That was short,” the detective smiled to him. “I thought you drove to the Lux and it would take you a couple of hours.”

What could that hound have been showing her? And was it the first time? Lucifer considered it quickly and then discarded the doubts. Whatever it was, the detective was too rational to believe that the dog could communicate with her telepathically. She would believe it to be some random thoughts, nothing more.

 _Do not gossip,_ he warned only, looking at the hound menacingly, and shifted his attention fully to the detective.

“I didn’t want to miss the sunset,” he said, allowing himself to drawn in her eyes, deep, blue and sparkling, like the sea waves in the sunlight. “There is a wonderful view on the west side from the roof terrace. I thought we could have supper there and…”

He stopped, realizing that his words might have sounded stupid, because when had ever heard about the devil caring for sunsets? The detective, however, jumped from her deckchair, smiling even brighter.

“Great idea,” she said. “Where do you keep plates?”

Lucifer had no idea because he had never used the kitchen in this house before, but after a short search, he found everything in the cupboards. Chloe made a face, seeing the tableware.

“Just how can you have such a perfectly equipped house and never use it?”

“I never checked the equipment,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “I bought this house for the view.”

“You have here a view, and a garden, and a pool. It is like a hotel, only just for you,” laughed Chloe. “You could go here on vacation.”

“All my time here is vacation,” replied Lucifer without thinking.

The detective froze mid-movement over the open drawer with cutlery. The devil expected some troubling question, like ‘what do you mean: here?’ or ‘a vacation from what?’.

“Would you need to go back?” 

Now, that was a troubling question. Lucifer kept silent for a long while. “I hope not,” he replied honestly. “I intend to stay.”

Strange, how… calm he suddenly felt about it. Until now, when he thought about his future, his heart swelled with angry determination. To spite the Father he cut his wings filled with angst and rage. And now he was so calm. As if he for the first time believed, that it was within his reach. Was it because of her?

The phoenix. The second chance.

“Good. LA would miss you,” replied the detective, smiling to him over her shoulder and Lucifer wondered, how could anyone be so familiar and unique at the same time.

* * *

The evening was lovely, the air fresh and filled with the fragrance of flowers blooming from the garden. They ate the supper delivered by one of Lucifer’s favourite restaurants, watching the sun hiding behind the horizon over the hills. Chloe was perhaps a bit tense sometimes, but otherwise, she laughed and joked as if she was at her normal self again.

Only when the shadows around them grew thicker and longer and first stars appeared on the darkening sky, her anxiety grew. She played with the remains of her dessert and fidgeted in the chair, to finally freeze with half-closed eyes, clutching the fingers on its armrests.

The hound walked slowly toward them, nudging her knees.

 _Inside,_ he sent a message to Lucifer.

 _I know. I see that much,_ replied bitingly the devil, standing up.

“It is getting chilly, why don’t you go inside, Detective, while I clean it up?” he proposed lightly, and Chloe thanked him with a short nod.

Downstairs, he deliberately switched on as many lights as possible. While cleaning the dishes after their supper, he observed the detective, nesting herself on the couch. She wrapped herself in a blanket and placed her wine glass within arm’s reach.

She looked very cosy and comfortable. Lucifer suddenly wished to share that simple comfort with her and wondered, whether it would be all right if he joined her on that couch.

They used to watch TV together earlier, in his apartment, but that was before… Before that kiss. She never mentioned it. Perhaps she preferred to keep the distance?...

After a moment of consideration, the devil reached for the box of chocolates, that were sent together with their supper as a special gift from the _chef de cuisine_ , and came up to the detective.

“Chocolates?” he proposed.

“Sure,” nodded the detective, moving over to make more place on the couch.

Well, the message was clear.

Lucifer sat on the couch and considered, whether it would be a good moment to tell the detective about the conversation with Daniel. He didn’t intend to keep it secret from her but… earlier he didn’t want to spoil the supper and now… he looked at Chloe again. She sat wrapped in the blanket, slowly sipping her wine…

She needed some comfort now. She needed to feel safe.

The conversation could wait. Lucifer reached for the remote and searched the channels for something, the detective could enjoy.

“Hey, Body Bags,” noticed sleepily Chloe, while he was skimming the programme. “Put it on, I know you like it.”

It was as good as anything else, so Lucifer put it on and pretended to watch the movie, discreetly observing the detective. He wondered, whether this night some of the Heavenly assistance would also be needed, to ensure her calm sleep. However, the detective drank some of her wine, sat even more comfortably than before and slowly dozed off, moving closer and closer to him, the deeper she fell asleep.

Her heartbeat was even and breathing calm. Apparently, the wings were not going to be needed tonight. Humans had their own way of finding comfort _._

 _Quite pleasant ways_ , thought Lucifer, reaching for the last chocolate. He pulled Chloe a bit closer, just to make her more comfortable.

He would need to place the detective in her bed now, with the night lamp on and the door open… He would only hold her a bit longer, just to make sure, she was fine.

And then all the weariness of the last days and sleepless nights washed over him, like a wave, pulling him down, into sleep.


	17. The matter of hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, sorry for the long delay. I had some problems for a week or two and was rather in the mood to kill our darlings than to write a lovey-dovey stuff for them. However, I have waited a moment, before writing the next part and here they are. Both alive and happy and hmm... you will see:)

“I wanted her gone,” recalled Lucifer pensively. Having met with a blank sight of his brother, he elaborated: “The detective. When she came to the Lux, to ask for my help, my first thought was to refuse her. I almost asked her to leave. I felt, that if I allow her to stay, it will turn into something… overwhelming. And I didn’t want to… to let her… change that much!” he concluded angrily. He spoke loudly, not caring for the fact that they were standing in the middle of the shopping alley and drew the attention of a tired, mousy-looking woman, who was passing by them, pushing the baby carriage. She slowed down sending him condemning glance.

“Don’t worry, Mister, the guys like you never change,” she muttered snappishly, evidently to herself, but Lucifer, of course, heard it. For a moment, his attention focused on her.

“Dearie me, you really should take care of yourself,” he observed. “A day or two in the spa should cheer up that sombre expression.”

The woman’s face softened. Her sight, now hazy and hesitant, wandered toward the carriage.

“Oh, I am sure that this drooling creature has a father who could keep it alive for a few days. Go on, do something for yourself,” Lucifer winked at her encouragingly and the woman, still dazed, walked away. After a few yards, her steps slowed down and she turned toward the nearest exit.

Lucifer corrected his cuffs and straightened the jacket, checking his appearance in the display window. He smiled with satisfaction, oblivious to how out of place he looked in the middle of the shopping centre, crowded with common humans and their trivial affairs. The other customers kept casting curious glances in his direction, but he accepted it as a due tribute.

Amenadiel, however, appeared a bit uncomfortable. “Why don’t we go to talk in a calmer place? Somewhere with more privacy?” he proposed.

“No, that’s fine,” Lucifer waved his hand. “Anyway, at first, I spoke with the detective only because I promised it to the Douche. And then we started to quarrel and somehow made this deal… and I thought I will play a game with Father. About her,” continued Lucifer, his voice getting heavier, his self-satisfaction suddenly gone. “That I will convince the Father’s Miracle to take the devil’s side.”

“How?” Amenadiel furrowed his eyebrows, but Lucifer shrugged his shoulders with faked carelessness.

“I had a thousand ideas at the moment. Only that…” his voice wavered, when he acknowledged the wave of shame once again, “I assured myself that I didn’t want to hurt her, but I think I did. She was too fair, and too strong and too distant and wanted to have her close so much… and all I could think about was to pull her down, into my misery… Do you know what I did, Brother?” he asked suddenly.

Amenadiel slowly shook his head. “Mazikeen said you tried to help.”

“I manoeuvred her into the situation where my help was the only thing she could count on,” said Lucifer, slowly and clearly. “She was depressed and disappointed, yes. But she would overcome it on her own, I am sure. And I… I pushed her into the wrong direction.”

Amenadiel frowned, furrowing his brows. Then his expression cleared again.

“I do not think that this direction was wrong, if it brought you closer together. And the danger she was in was real. She could have been killed. And yet she is fine. More than fine, actually. You did use the grace to heal her?” he observed innocently, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed his satisfaction. “You – the grace!...” he chuckled, silencing only at is brother’s angry huff. “Maybe you started from the wrong side, but the results are good. Father works in mysterious…”

“Don’t,” warned him Lucifer. He took few deep breaths to calm himself, but finally burst our anyway: “It is all because of Father and his meddling,” he spat angrily. “The plan. Oh, no, ‘The Plan’,” Lucifer accentuated mockingly. “The eternal bloody plan. Do you know, how many hours I wondered, what is the detective’s part in it? What role did He give her? At first, I thought she might be destined to destroy me,” he observed so causally, that Amenadiel flinched. “You know, because of this vulnerability glitch. But no,” Lucifer raised his hands, forestalling his brother’s protests. “That would be too simple. You see, I care for her too much.”

“And when she got kidnapped, you thought that… how did you phrase it? That Father wanted to teach you a lesson?”

“Yes. I thought that Father might have intended to use my feelings against me, because… she makes me feel… the things I have never experienced before…”

“Yes,” nodded Amenadiel with a smile. “I know what you are feeling. In fact…”

“Now you don’t,” interrupted him Lucifer. “How could you? It is… unique,” his voice trailed off for a moment when he recalled how his wake-up this morning.

_He woke up on the couch, to the sunrays warming his face. Chloe was still asleep, by his side… or more precisely, on his side, her head on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around her. She was soft and warm, and her hair was scattered on his chest and it was the most delightful wake-up in his life, including the brisk and fragrant mornings in the Garden when the world was still fresh and young._

_With Chloe, the world was fresh and young again._

_The sun brightened her hair and they seem to glow, like a halo around her face. Lucifer regretted he has no scissors within reach so that he could cut a strand of her hair and keep it, as a reminder._

_Chloe stirred slowly, frowning her nose when the sun rays teased her. Still groggy with sleep, she smiled to him, reaching her hand to his cheek._

And then she woke up, coming to her senses and things got a bit awkward. She moved her hand back as if it burned – even if she didn’t quite touch his face yet – and crumbled on her feet, apologizing him profusely.

As if there was something she should apologize for.

“Luci, why are we having this conversation in the middle of the shopping alley?” Amenadiel’s voice broke into his sweet memories. “Let’s go for coffee. You will tell me about your issues, I will tell you about mine…. You wanted to talk, right?”

“Oh, no, Brother, I am not seeking advice,” replied Lucifer with distraction.

In fact, his conversation with Amenadiel was an accidental result of the chain of events that started this morning with his wake-up in the sunrays.

The detective’s embarrassment didn’t diminish after breakfast, so Lucifer decided to add some company, to ease the tension. His original idea was that the detective should speak with Doctor Martin. What he had in mind, was a small therapy session, which could turn into systematic support, should the doctor find it necessary.

However, when Linda arrived, things got out of control. The conversation between the doctor and the detective concluded with the spontaneous decision of shopping together. Lucifer protested – the idea of letting the detective wander in the unguarded place crowded with people with possibly evil intentions made him nauseous – but in vain. Doctor Martin stated, with all seriousness, that if they also buy the new bag for Chloe, to replace the old one, the shopping escapade would have a therapeutic dimension. After that words, both women started to giggle for a few minutes and even if Lucifer realized that they were, at least partially, laughing at him, he felt nevertheless happy and relieved hearing the detective laugh so carelessly. He had no heart to protest any further, only proposed his company and – fishing for the doctor’s weak point – added, that they could invite also Amenadiel and by this occasion visit the cinema, as his brother wished.

Doctor Linda stopped giggling and immediately agreed.

And then the doctor and the detective dived into some terrible place, filled with badly-cut clothes, smelling with low-quality polyester, with piles of overpriced rugs kept in dirty containers near the entrance. Lucifer refused to enter it, but remained near the entrance, talking with his brother.

Amenadiel, apparently, treated his role as the devil’s advisor more seriously and now looked so disappointed with his refusal, that Lucifer corrected his last stance:

“On the other hand, I have no idea what to do. I am… in distress, Brother.”

Here. He said it to make Amenadiel feel better, but once the words sounded in the air, he realized how awfully true they were.

“I don’t know what to do,” he repeated with utter helplessness. “I wanted to have her close, but I also wanted to keep the distance. And it is all in vain because now I need her to breath,” he shook his head laughing with bitter self-irony. “A human. A God’s Miracle. And the devil cannot live without her.”

“Don’t you think, that perhaps Father just wanted to… help you find someone right for you? So that you would be… like… more happy?”

Lucifer looked at him with an amused and bitter expression. “No, I don’t.”

“I such case,” started slowly Amenadiel, “I would never expect I will say it, but… stop thinking about the Father. Concentrate on what you want.”

_As if it could be that easy._

The devil kept silent for a moment, watching his perfectly manicured nails. Then he cast a glance toward the shop, noticing the detective and the doctor discussing some red and frumpy article of clothes. Perhaps not everything in the shop was utterly despicable.

He shook his head and tried to concentrate. It was not easy, with all that sweet tenderness in his soul and the whispers of fire burning in his veins, but for a while, he tried to… to listen to the currents of fate around him.

_The wheels were moving, the path was set. The chains of events were in motion and the destinies were unravelling. Whatever his fate was, he was following it._

Somehow, it troubled him. He preferred to rebel. To be unpredictable. To thrive in chaos. Why should he hope, that the future would hold anything good destined for him? After so many aeons being an outcast?

“Lucifer?” Amenadiel urged him gently.

The devil blinked, returning to his present reality. “I think that the detective might be communicating with the hound,” he stated matter-of-factly.

His brother frowned, surprised with the sudden turn in the conversation. “So? I heard that the Hellhound has some telepathic abilities that may also influence humans.”

“Influence, yes,” snorted Lucifer. “More precisely, to influence them with the feelings of terror and impending doom. The chase is more fun when the prey is terrified.”

The man, passing by them, stumped and looked at Lucifer with outrage.

“Be at peace,” Amenadiel smiled to his calmingly. “We only are discussing demons.”

The man’s eyes went wide and he quickly went away.

“But perhaps we shouldn’t discuss it in the middle of the crowd,” conceded Amenadiel. “Luci, why don’t we go…”

“There is no need. Anyway, the Hellhound can transmit to humans fear and despair, and only general impression, not the specific thoughts,” continued Lucifer, not paying attention to the interruption. “Whereas with the detective… it looked as if their connection was deeper.”

“Chloe Decker is not a common mortal,” observed Amenadiel. “She is a Miracle and perhaps…”

“Precisely,” cut him off Lucifer. “Perhaps I was wrong at the very beginning, assuming that her destiny was connected to mine? Perhaps Father created her with an entirely different purpose and we met just by accident and…”

He stopped abruptly, suddenly faced with the deepest fear.

_That Chloe Decker wasn’t made for him._

How… ridiculous. Since months he was tormented by the thought, that the detective was designed to be a trap for him. Now what he really feared was that her destiny had nothing to do with him. That she had the path of her own, the path, that could drive them apart…

Suddenly, he would walk gladly into any trap, just to keep her close.

“Father might want something different,” he muttered dimly. “He might have given her some special abilities with purpose… that has nothing to do with me. Perhaps He might be meddling with the planes. You know, a human woman with a touch of Heaven, able to bond with the creatures of Hell… something like this… My vulnerability around her might be just a… side effect. What He wanted to achieve might be… changes, or adjustments in the general scheme of things… something involving all three planes of existence…” The horde of teenagers, laud and excited, passed by them and Lucifer’s words were drowned out by their noisy laughers. The devil sent a dirty look behind them, but silenced, discouraged.

After all, what all his rambling was worth? Just another attempt to… read the damn Plan. Since months he was tossing himself between doubt and hope. And where did it let him?

At the moment, Father could defeat him in a fraction of second with barely any effort.

It would be enough if Chloe Decker died.

The devil would be broken.

“Oh, Brother, you are such a mess,” sighed Amenadiel, mirroring his thoughts. “You shouldn’t think so much. Whatever the future brings, let it happen,” he advised, raising the wave of irrational irritation in Lucifer.

 _Easy for him to say, now, when he is human, his future here is not that long,_ he thought angrily and almost said it aloud. However, at this moment he noticed that their companions were already walking toward them – and for the first time, Amenadiel was left with the last word in their conversation, as Lucifer’s attention shifted entirely to the detective.

Yes, she did look good. Her split lip and bruises on her face healed with almost no trace. On the morning, she appeared to be surprised by her quick recovery herself. Lucifer saw how she approached the mirror with the make-up kit, prepared to cover the bruises – and then put it aside, examining her healed skin with a frown.

She quickly accepted it and forgot, but Lucifer started to wonder. His wings shouldn’t have such effect on her. Usually, his healing abilities were limited. Besides, he intended to ease her mind, not heal her body. Not that he minded that, but… Perhaps, it was because of her Miracle-ness. Perhaps that was why she responded to well to Grace.

Perhaps that’s why she was able to communicate with the Hound. So many little curious incidents, that could be explained by her being touched with Heaven… by her being part of The Plan…

Or, perhaps, it was au contraire. Not because of her, but because of them. Perhaps the Hound was so attached to her, that he took a special effort to communicate. Perhaps he himself was so worried about her, that he somehow managed to outdo his limits and heal her?

 _I will go mad, munching on all this,_ the devil thought wearily.

Then his eyes fell on the phoenix brooch fastened to the detective jacket. It looked surprisingly good, despite the contract between the casual, a bit worn down fabric and the exotic, artistic shape of jewel.

A piece of his world in hers.

And a phoenix was also a symbol of hope. Maybe that was the only thing that mattered?

“Hey, don’t tell me you have been waiting for us here all the time?” the detective looked at them with surprise. “I thought you would go somewhere… together. I would hurry if I knew…”

“That’s fine,” assured her quickly Lucifer. “We had a nice little brotherly chat here.” Amenadiel made some strange sound, but he ignored him. “Hope you had fun.”

“Uhm… We did,” Chloe nodded with a smile almost as serene as the one he got in the morning. And then suddenly, just like on the morning, she blushed and turned to his brother, chattering, somehow nervously:

“So, Amenadiel, is it really your first visit to the cinema? In such case we need to go, wouldn’t like to be late for your first show,” she observed. “And tell me, how is it possible that you have never been to movies before? I already suspect that you were brought up in the castle on the top of the mountain that would explain so much…” she chattered, walking quickly toward the entrance to the cinema.

Amenadiel followed her which left Lucifer and Linda alone for a moment.

“You cannot let her out of sight, right?” the doctor asked quietly.

Lucifer looked aside. “Well, Doctor, that shop appeared to be a potentially dangerous place. One could get suffocated with the fumes of polyester and fake leather. I preferred to keep an eye on you,” he chuckled, but his laugher was short-lasting. “No. No, I cannot,” he confessed with a helpless smile. “I need to… be sure she is safe.”

“She is fine, Lucifer,” said the doctor. “I talked with her, she is fine. A bit shaken, right, but that’s a normal reaction. She will get over it. You had a great idea to take her into a new house. That was a perfect distraction. Besides, Chloe is strong and used to adrenaline. She is a fighter, not some frail little girl, you know.”

“She is still too frail for how much I need her,” muttered Lucifer. “But thank you, Doctor.”

Linda smiled at him and nodded. “Now tell me, how’s that your brother has never been into the cinema?...”

“It is Amenadiel,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “He never knew how to enjoy the Earth. Always following orders, nothing more.”

“Well, then. It is the highest time to change it. Let’s go.”

* * *

“I cannot believe I am doing this,” muttered Lucifer reluctantly, looking at the small crowd of young, badly clothed people waiting in the line to the register. “You have a bad influence on the level of my entertainments, Detective,” he chastised her friendly.

Chloe for a moment looked unconvinced herself. “It is been a while I have been in the cinema with grow-ups,” she said slowly, “but it could be fun. Oh, come on.”

She took his arm and pulled him inside, her grasp tightening slightly when they were passing through the little dark corridor. Lucifer immediately forgot about his reservations and reached to touch the small of her back, to let her know that he was with her, guiding her through this dark place.

Chloe cleared her throat but didn’t move away.

“Going to the cinema is not only about watching the movie,” she said, once they took their places. “Young people go to the cinema to… you know… be closer, without making it too obvious. Something like… cuddling closer, touching each other’s hands in the scary moments…”

“Yes, I get the picture,” muttered Lucifer watching his brother and Doctor Linda slowly leaning closer to each other, even if the movie didn’t start yet. The screen was flashing with laud, aggressive commercials and yet it didn’t disturb the pair to fall into an intimate mood.

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. His boring, sanctimonious brother and the doctor, who… definitely wasn’t boring. Good for them, but why their awkward flirting required dragging him into this hideous place? The armchairs were uncomfortable, and the armrests seemed sticky and doubtlessly after that his suit would be…

The commercials ended and for a moment the screen went out, flooding the whole room in the total darkness. The wave of tension from the detective was palpable and Lucifer, without thinking grabbed her hand…

…and speaking of awkward, that would be a good example.

“I am fine,” mouthed the detective, her sight stuck in the black screen, but she didn’t withdraw her hand. As such, she didn’t give Lucifer the slightest hint what he should do with his spontaneous and probably unnecessary gesture.

Confused, he leaned to her hand and placed a quick kiss on it.

In the darkness, he heard the detective inhale sharply and felt her tense even more.

Damn, wrong century. He recalled a second too late that now it wasn’t a common gesture of respect only something more… intimate.

However, the detective still didn’t pull her hand back. It even seemed that she wrapped her fingers tighter around his, but he could have been mistaken... What if she was only trying to be polite?

The screen lit with the credits of the movie they came to watch, but Lucifer didn’t acknowledge even the title. He sat, as stiff and confused as the detective, not looking at her but still holding her hand, embarrassed and unsure what to do now.

And then his phone rang.

Lucifer checked the screen and – ignoring the irritated hushes around him – sighed with relief. Saved by the Douche – again.

“It is Daniel, it must be important,” he said to the detective, standing up. He was still holding her hand, so he pulled her behind him. The detective followed him without protest, only whispering quick excuses to the people around them.

“Chloe told me you went shopping,” Dan’s voice sounded in the speaker, “And I thought that the mall would be a good place to talk. Can you meet me in Starbucks on the second floor, like, right now?”

“Absolutely,” agreed immediately Lucifer. He definitely should do something nice for the Douche for all these well-timed conversations. Perhaps buy him a stock of pudding? Or a pudding factory? “Thank you, Daniel.”

“I didn’t want to watch this movie as well,” commented the detective with a smirk.

* * *

“Chloe! Lucifer, hi,” Daniel welcomed them when they reached the location. “Sorry for the alarm, but… I think that… discretion might be necessary and like that we can meet without drawing attention. I wanted you to see it,” he handed the detective a folder and frowned, looking at his ex-wife: “Chloe you look so much better than... two days ago. How did it heal so quickly?” he reached to the detective’s lip, almost brushing his fingers on the spot, where it was split.

Lucifer clenched his hands in the fists, struggling with the urge to bat Dan’s hands away.

“Yeah. It wasn’t that bad as it seemed,” replied obliviously the detective, taking the folder. “What is it?”

“Confessions of Aron Chaney. This mobster, who is talking. I mean, part of it,” replied Dan. “I am making double files. An official one, with some boring stuff. And the second, I haven’t shown anyone yet,” he pointed at the folder.

“Wow. Sounds like you found something big,” muttered Chloe, flipping through the pages. Lucifer peeked into the folder over her shoulder.

“It is about Tejada,” explained Dan quite unnecessarily, because they both have just read this part. “Oscar Tejada. The one that was supposed to die in prison.”

“And it would seem that he didn’t,” concluded slowly the detective, raising her sight to Lucifer – and damn, now she looked beautiful, her eyes shining with excitement of catching a good trail. Lucifer himself felt the almost forgotten thrill of solving the case. He reached for the folder, quickly skimming through its content, while Dan added:

“I made some digging. It happened about a year ago when Perry Smith was still on his position. He apparently made a lot of deals with the mob. It must have been one of them.”

“They staged Tejada’s death?”

“It would appear so. He was treated for cancer for a few weeks and then reported dead, but… from what Chaney says, it was just a ruse. He is, most probably, hiding somewhere in LA and still leading the gang.”

“Oh, yes. That could be huge,” sighed pensively the detective and Lucifer almost saw the wheels in her head moving. She took it personally, at the moment she heard the name of Perry Smith. She would now do everything to solve this case, to right the wrong, that was committed by her father’s killer.

And that was good. The detective was becoming the detective again. Lucifer wondered how to speak with her about her return to work, but it seemed he wouldn’t have to persuade her. This case would do it for her, bring her back where she belonged.

“Dan, why are you making double files? Why didn’t you report it to Watts?” she asked sharply.

“Because he is not sure whom to trust, right?” commented Lucifer.

“Right,” nodded Dan. “So far, I was the only one talking with Chaney. You see, he came when the whole precinct was still searching for you, Chloe. I was kind of… out of the official investigation, so I started to talk with him… and soon after that Maze called, informing you were found, and there was even more mess… Anyway, what I mean is that Watts didn’t quite notice Chaney. He knows we have a new informer, but he is unaware of the significance of his confessions and I prefer to keep it this way, because…” Daniel hesitated and silenced.

Lucifer finished for him with slight irritation: “Don’t be shy, Daniel! You suspect Watts might be in it, right? Perhaps during his long and boring carrier, he made a few shady deals too? Just to sweeten his longed-for retirement with a nice sum on his account?”

“Perhaps, though there are no proofs for it,” replied cautiously Dan. “I just do not want to take the risks. You see, Perry Smith was investigated after his… death,” Daniel’s voice stuttered slightly. “Something so big… should be revealed. And it wasn’t.”

“Besides,” recalled Lucifer, “when I have been talking with that repentant mob guy, he mentioned something about searching for contacts in the precinct for your kidnappers, Detective. Robert Duncan was one, for sure, but what about if there are others?”

“This doesn’t have to be Watts. It might be someone else.”

“Oh, that would be so worth it,” sighed the detective, deep in thoughts. When Lucifer looked at her questioningly, she explained: “My kidnapping. And all that happened earlier. It would be worth a bit of stress, to solve such a case.”

“Oh, no, Chlo, you misunderstood me,” Dan shook his head. “I am not expecting you to be engaged in this case it. I just wanted to warn you, so that you and Lucifer would be extra cautious now. As for the case, I am going to find enough evidence, so that no one would be able to sweep it under the rug and then report it, to Watts and higher.”

“Then we are going to help you find the evidence.”

“We?...” Dan raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, we… as me and… Lucifer?...” the detective’s voice suddenly faltered, getting a questioning tone.

 _You let me down. I don’t need you anymore. You should go._ The words she said all these months ago, sending him away, suddenly sounded between them again. Now the detective was looking at him, abashed and almost pleading, as the devil hurried to assure her, that it was fine, that this sad moment was behind them, in the past.

“I am in, of course,” he nodded, without thinking.

The detective beamed and turned to her ex-husband ago. “You cannot work alone, Dan. We will help you. You will be gathering clues at the precinct and we would be working in the field. Just like we used to.”

Dan took a deep breath and started to protest, speaking something about holidays, excessive risks and proper protocol. Chloe refused to acknowledge his doubts, literally beaming with excitement.

And Lucifer realized that he had just agreed to be a consultant again.

All his self-preservation instincts screamed, that he made a mistake. That he has just placed himself in the starting point again, after all this turmoil, the fake marriage, the real and painful break-up, after everything he did to put the distance between himself and his Father’s Miracle, he has just returned to her, as if nothing happened.

So much effort and suffering, and his life had just made a big circle.

“Lucifer?” the detective’s sharp voice pierced his ears. “Would you, perhaps, join the conversation? And take my side, maybe?”

Apparently, in the meantime, her exchange with the Douche evolved into the quarrel. The devil, who missed most of the conversation, looked at both detectives blinking.

“You cannot do this, Chlo,” Daniel sighed wearily. “You know that.”

“Of course that she can,” retorted automatically Lucifer. “I will help her.”

“Dude, that’s pathetic. You didn’t even listen,” Daniel shook his head, with reproach, but also resignation. “Okay, I need to go back to work. We will talk tomorrow. At least be careful.” He stood up, with a conciliatory nod toward the detective – and condemning grimace toward Lucifer – and left.

“Detective? What are we planning?” asked cautiously Lucifer.

“A quick escapade to Mauritius to avoid the mob’s revenge,” she replied seriously.

“Really?” pleased Lucifer. “I know the perfectly nice…”

“Lucifer, I was kidding. Sorry to disappoint you, but I just want to help Daniel to find the evidence. Perhaps tomorrow we would speak with Chaney. And then with Oscar Tejada, once he would be released from the hospital.”

“Oh, you did not disappoint me at all, Detective. That sounds so much better than Mauritius,” sighed Lucifer, relishing the perspective. Gathering clues. Extracting confessions from sinners. Dolling the due punishment to the one who hoped to evade it. All this together with the detective. No, Mauritius couldn’t compare.

 _The trap,_ he recalled with an effort. _Father’s trap, custom-made for the devil._

He loved everything about it. About her. The thrill of solving criminal riddles in her company. Her spirit, her stubbornness, all that harsh edges the other men seemed to disapprove of. And the soft edges too… Her hands, so warm and soft, would she allow him to keep her hand once again? Most probably, she would. This and much more. His head spun at the perspective.

It felt so good. But what if it really was a trap?

It was the last moment to withdraw. He could do it, couldn’t he? Rebuild some distance. Resign from intimacy and remain unchanged. He would see to her prosperity and happiness, just like he did a few times in the past centuries with a few chosen humans he fancied.

 _Pets. These were pets,_ he recalled. _The detective was more._

But they could be friends. Chloe Decker, the first and only friend of the devil. He would remain close, taking care of her, but keeping his walls intact. With time, his feelings for her would probably become less…. burning. Maybe he would even, just to remove the temptation, help her to find love? A nice and safe man just for her?

No, it wouldn’t work. He would tear into shreds anyone who would dare to touch her.

Unless she would want another man to touch her. Then Lucifer would shred into pieces his own poor heart.

Oh, he was a mess, indeed.

* * *

_I am in it. I will help her._

Chloe recalled Lucifer’s words over and over again, feeling something light and happy inside. He said it with such ease. Without thinking. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, that he would stand by her side.

_So much better than Mauritius._

Chloe smiled. He really meant it. He liked working with her. With all his playboy lifestyle, filled with entertainment and luxury, he still preferred to work with her.

There was something sweet in this realization, and exhilarating, and… yes, she was behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush. Butterflies in the stomach and all that. Who would say that in her age she would still be able to feel so… carelessly happy? Just because Lucifer would work with her again?

Ah, but that was not a small deal. Only now did she realize, how much she had missed him. Besides, it was not only about Lucifer. It was also about her future. So far, she wasn’t sure whether she would return to the LAPD, though her disappointment with her work relations faded with time. But now, when Dan shared his news… it was natural, that she would take part in his investigation, and this decision was quickly followed by the realization that she would return to precinct because there was no better place for her. A decision, that appeared to be difficult was taken easily, and she felt very good about it.

After Dan left, they went to eat something. Lucifer said, that it was too make up for the movie they missed. Chloe corrected him, saying that it was to celebrate rebuilding their partnership.

As the matter of fact, it was like one of these meals they had when they were working were the cases together. Chloe secretly relished in reading with Lucifer the files from Dan. They could exchanging ideas and discussing possibilities over the delicious meal in a cosy place… Everything was as it should be. Chloe could purr like a cat with contentment.

There was, perhaps, a tiny voice whispering that they cannot simply return to the past. That a few hours ago, when he took her hand in this stupid cinema she almost forgot how to breathe. That now, his eyes were constantly wandering from the files to her: to her eyes, lips, shoulders… That the warmth she felt had less to do with that small glass of wine she drank, and more with him sitting perhaps a bit too closely… And generally, this dinner, no matter what they pretended, looked exactly like a date.

That little persistent voice warned also, that they could not be simply partners any more, they would be something more or nothing at all.

Chloe tried to silence that whisper of doubts and concentrate on the information from Dan. The potential range and significance of this case were huge. Her ex-husband perceived it as a threat to her. Chloe, however, felt nothing but excitement. That case… it was exactly what she needed to gather herself and recover. In the last weeks, she had been subjected to senseless persecution. Even if things ended well, the unfairness of it still hurt. Damn it, she lost the whole summer with her daughter! No one would give them back this time And now everything she came through, all the stress she experienced after being unjustly accused, all fear and pain caused by the kidnapping – would be justified if it served to catch a crime boss… and undoing the results of the crime committed by her father’s killer.

“How did it exactly happen that this guy, this Chaney, start talking?” she asked Lucifer when they were already driving back to the house on the hills. “You met him, right?”

“Yes. He pointed me the location, where they kept you. I might have scared him a little,” Lucifer replied quite evasively, adding quickly with a cheerful smile: “But I have been restrained and gentle. I assure you, that this man kept his mind intact.”

“That’s… good. His mind is obviously going to be of use,” replied Chloe somehow weakly. Lucifer’s words reminded her quite unpleasantly that she was having a schoolgirl crush on someone who could have scary a man to the point of madness.

“I met him too. When they kept me kidnapped,” she recalled. “He seemed quite… superstitious.”

“Superstitious?”

“About… about you.”

“Ah, that. Yes. It helped, he was more cooperative.”

How lightly he said. As if it was natural that the man was afraid of him so much, that he committed the greatest no-no of the crime world and became the police informer,

Chloe rubbed her forehead, feeling as if she just got a cold shower, that washed away some of her exhilaration. It had been months since she had to cope with terrorized suspect, or calm Lucifer during his fits of rage. Somehow, between Candy and all that happened later, she forgot that Lucifer was… what was he exactly? Insane? Or simply weird?

Well, it didn’t matter whether he was suffering from clinically proven delusions or only found some… special way to distance himself from the world. No matter the reasons, there was no way to ignore and deny the fact that he was… specific.

And perhaps it was easier to kiss a troubled man on the beach, to grace him with comfort and acceptance he didn’t hope for… than to consider coping with his luggage on the daily basis.

 _No. It is not that. Not the luggage,_ thought Chloe, tapping nervously at the car seat, trying to grasp at what was making her so… uncomfortable. Everyone came with luggage. Hers wasn’t small either. She could try to soothe him, and help him, and visit the therapy with him… all that would be necessary. And it was not that she minded this devil obsession. She was not religious, the devil’s references didn’t disturb her. The fact, that he was so suggestive, sometimes even helped, the last case of this contrite criminal being the best example.

The real problem was that… whether it was a delusion or deliberate attitude, Lucifer did it with such… conviction. And if he couldn’t tell the difference between phantasy and reality, was he able to… to truly connect with someone? What if his feelings for her were no more than a part of some other imaginative concept of his?

He supported her with the same conviction, with which he claimed to be the devil on holidays. What if one day, he decides it was all an illusion and starts to believe in something else? Just like that? He would get bored with her, or find something more intriguing and…

Was it what happened when he married Candy?

“Why did you marry Candy?” she asked suddenly. “I have just realized, I have never asked you why did you do it.”

Lucifer blinked. “Now, Detective, and who said you cannot surprise?” he quipped masking confusion with laugher. Then, however, he silenced and sighed, getting serious: “I tried to avoid being mixed up in the meddling of my parents.”

Chloe suddenly felt very helpless. “I don’t understand what it means,” she said numbly.

“I also wanted to put distance between us.”

That Chloe understood. _How encouraging,_ she thought with bitterness.

“It was a mistake, though,” he added quietly, not looking at her.

 _A mistake. Leaving her was a mistake. He regretted it,_ butterflies in Chloe’s stomach woke up again and she had to work hard to squash that giddy, joyful feeling.

Lucifer was making rush decisions basing not on the reasonable judgement or open discussion, only on his delusions. His world was full of unbelievable stories, supernatural creatures with evil intentions, complex and painful metaphors…

And it was all so intense.

It was not only in his head. It was his whole lifestyle.

 _He is living a fairytale_ , realized Chloe, saddening because she finally pinpointed what really troubled her.

Where did she fit in all this?

In this incredible world, he built around himself? In his antique-filled apartment, in his Dark Prince image, he wore with such finesse?... She was a strong, independent and attractive woman and many men would be interested in her, but she would never rise to Lucifer’s charisma.

Everything about him was special and intriguing. Everything.

Even that ring. Chloe’s eyes to Lucifer’s hands on the steering wheel – these pianist’s fingers – and his onyx ring that was a subject of countless gossips at the precinct. Even if Lucifer said many times, that he simply got it from a friend, everyone was convinced that there must be some bigger story behind it.

Chloe’s life was not filled with riddles and mystery only with everyday school-work routine and utilitarian objects with no legend behind them.

Suddenly, she felt so… boring.

How long would it take till he finds her boring too? What would she do with her broken heart then?

As if to spoil her mood even more, they have just reached Lucifer’s house. Chloe looked around gloomily, taking in all this… tasteful luxury. It wasn’t such magical like his apartment at Lux, but still, this place was… outstanding. Unique.

In other words, perhaps not exactly like her.

Quite deliberately, Chloe reached for the new bag she bought today with Linda and placed it on the sofa in the living room. Then she watched it in dejected silence, acknowledging the contrast between the designer furniture and her purchase, that screamed ‘I am practical!’

“That’s what you bought? I like it,” called Lucifer, from behind the bar, where he was fixing drinks.

Chloe turned to him abruptly with a sudden frown, because, let’s be honest, he couldn’t like overpriced leatherette with no designer panache.

“Thought you do not lie,” she muttered ironically, accepting the glass he handed her.

“I do not lie,” defended Lucifer. “It is very alike to what you usually wear. So, I like it.” He frowned as if surprised by his own words. “Of course, your fashion sense is appalling. Still, it doesn’t matter. I like it anyway,” he muttered more to himself than to her and emptied the glass in one quick gulp.

Chloe considered his words for a moment and decided, she would take it as a compliment. He liked her, right? That was all that mattered. Only that…

What if he liked her because he found her… casualness exotic? Maybe he got bored with all these flawless women and men in their designer outfits and perfect makeups and was searching for something else exactly when he came across her…

“Do people bore you?” she asked suddenly, before thinking.

Lucifer furrowed his eyebrows. “Quite often. Why?”

“Nothing,” muttered Chloe, so nervous that she was close to biting her nails.

She felt the urge to shower Lucifer with questions. Why did he want to distance himself from her after her poisoning? Why did he escape and marry a stranger, instead of talking over the problem? What his parents had to do with it? Was he now returning to LAPD, because he liked this work, or because he liked to work with her, or because he liked her? Without her, would he came back? Was she… boring him? Was he going to get bored with her in the future, provided that they would… start something? Was he even considering…

 _There is no use,_ she realized suddenly, pushing all these questions aside. _I will never ever get more secure ground._ No matter what he would tell her, the uncertainty would always be there. It was up to her, to accept it or retreat.

* * *

The lights went out without the warning.

Chloe had just showered and was about to sleep. She was much calmer than yesterday, especially in a cosy, well-lit room. Switching off the lights was still out of question, but perhaps she could finally close the door to her bedroom?

She lingered for a moment in the threshold, with her hand on the handle.

“You can leave this open, you know!” called Lucifer from the living room. “You do not snore that laud!”

“Well thank you,” laughed Chloe, “but I think it is time to return to normal. Good night,” she smiled and reached to close the door.

And then the whole world went black, the lamps switching off in a second, followed by abrupt silencing of the background noises produced by the air-conditioning and fridge.

All of the sudden, they were flooded with darkness and silence.

Chloe froze, her palm clenching on the handle. Her carefully nourished calm dispersed in the second. It was not the same kind of darkness as yesterday, in the garden, with the last hues of sunset on the sky. Or as today in the cinema, where they had alarm lights always on.

It was completely, absolutely dark.

Like in that cellar.

Chloe covered her mouth with a hand, to suppress a cry.

“It is just a blackout!” called Lucifer hastily. “I am sorry, I heard it happens sometimes, but…”

Chloe swallowed, to get rid of the clench in her throat and forced herself to sound causal: “No problem, I was going to sleep anyway,” At least, in this darkness, Lucifer couldn’t see how panicked she was. “I am fine, really,” she added, wrapping her arms around herself, to suppress a shiver. “Are there emergency lights here?”

“Even if they are, I have no bloody idea how to switch them on,” replied Lucifer, sounding so worried, as if he did see her after all. “But give me a moment, I think I saw the candles somewhere…” he was bustling around the room without bumping at anything and Chloe could only envy him.

She thought about solar lamps in the garden – but before taking shower she drew the curtains carefully, to separate herself from the darkness outside. Of course, there was still her phone. She even had a flashlight app. It was on the night table on the other side of the bed and Chloe could probably feel her way to it. Only that…

When she tried to move, for a moment she lost the sense of directions, like in that cellar. Her wrists started to ache and she felt the wave of dizziness, accompanied by nausea…

“It is fine, I’ve got you,” said Lucifer, suddenly by her side, touching her shoulders.

Surprised, Chloe panicked and screamed, jumping back.

“Hey, that’s just me,” called Lucifer. “Just me, you are safe. It is just a blackout. I couldn’t find these bloody candles, but there is a wood in the fireplace. I will light it, okay?”

“Okay,” gasped Chloe. Her heart was thumping as if he had run a mile and suddenly she felt very weak. She let Lucifer pull her closer and lead toward the fireplace. She also didn’t protest, when he picked her up after she stumbled over some piece of furniture. And even if her distressed state of mind she noticed, that his movements didn’t lose anything from his usual smoothness when he carried her through the room.

“Can you see anything?”

“Quite enough. Don’t worry, I will make a nice, big fire in a second.”

He placed her in the big armchair, pushing it in front of the fireplace. Still shaking, Chloe heard him shifting the logs and moment later…

… moment later the fire was blazing. The soft glow filled the room, revealing the familiar shapes of the furniture. Chloe sighed, taking a few trembling breaths.

“Thank you,” she said weakly, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She even didn’t notice when they started to flow. “I am sorry. Oh, God, I am so… pathetic. If I don’t take it under control, I will be useless. A detective that is afraid of darkness,” she chuckled bitterly.

“That’s fine. You will get over,” assured her Lucifer. He remained seated on the floor in front of the fireplace, but turned to her, resting the hand on her armchair. His eyes shined with sympathy and something… more. More tender. “And if not, it is still going to be fine,” he added jokingly. “We will cope with your addiction to light somehow. Will chase the evildoers only in the daylight and leave snooping around the dark corners for Mazikeen.”

Chloe snorted with laughter, strangely warmed up by this ‘we’. “Thank you.”

For a while, they were sitting in silence. The thrumming in Chloe’s ears receded and her heartbeat slowed down.

“Hey, how did you do it?” she asked suddenly when her senses calmed down enough to take in her surroundings. “The fire. That’s not how the logs catch fire,” she spoke with the experience from dozens of hiking trips, surprised with how high the fire was blazing, devouring evenly the thick pieces of wood. She sniffed around for some chemical kindling, but she couldn’t smell anything.

Lucifer turned to her again, raising his eyebrow with a mischievous smirk. “But Detective, don’t you know? That’s what I do. I play with fire and mess with light.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. Because you are the devil.”

For a moment he looked sincerely confused. “Uh, no. That’s actually the angel part.”

 _A fairytale._ The detective smiled looking at the fire, and then again at Lucifer. The lights of the flames suited him. He looked even better than usual; not simply handsome but… breathtakingly beautiful. _An angel, yes._ Some part of her wanted to let it go, to dive into his world of magic and wonders, where demons and angels meet common people and change their life, making it more… exciting.

Actually, why shouldn’t she? It would be fun.

No, not fun. It would be good. Right for her and for him.

The other part of her was terrified. It whispered, that Lucifer and she would never be on the same page. More, they were reading entirely different books. He would never be ready for that kind of connection she needed and sooner or later he would move on, to something else that catches his fancy.

Like her husband did.

 _Oh, damn it_. Chloe cringed with sudden anger. The disappointing past would not take her the hope for the future.

She took a deep breath and decided to dive.

“We never talked on what happened before… before my kidnapping and…” she started decisively but her the confidence evaporated from her voice when she saw how Lucifer’s shoulders suddenly tensed. She couldn’t see his face now, but his discomfort was palpable.

Chloe immediately regretted starting the subject, but it was too late. She could only dive deeper.

“Lucifer, I want more of us,” she said quickly on one breath before fear blocked the words in her throat. “I want to try…” she intended to phrase it casually, like ‘being together’, or ‘dating’, but apparently some magic was already working on her, because instead, she whispered: “…everything.”

Time froze and perhaps Chloe forgot to breathe, while Lucifer was sitting motionless, facing the fire. When he finally turned to her, she was too flustered to read his expression. He raised a little and reached to her, kissing her forehead – and it was a terribly friendly kiss.

Chloe’s her sunk. After such a gesture, she expected to hear ‘we are such good friends, let’s not spoil it.’ Or, perhaps a more dramatic refusal, that would suit the heroes from her mother’s cheesy movies: ‘I cannot give you what you seek.’

But instead, Lucifer muttered something, that sounded like: “Bugger the bloody plan,” and before Chloe managed to get surprised, his hands grasped her waist, pulling her down from the armchair.

Actually, it didn’t matter what he meant. Chloe slipped onto the floor, kneeling by Lucifer’s side and, wrapping her arms around his neck, leant to kiss him.

He eagerly accepted the kiss, embracing her waist to pull her closer.

It was wonderful. Like on that evening in the penthouse. No, better, because she was sober and he wasn’t irritated and all that was happening was their decision, not slip of control… But part of her subconsciously expected him to suddenly push her away again, as the last time, so she wrapped her arms even tighter around him, to keep him, while she clung to him in the kiss, that lasted until she needed to catch a breath.

“Everything is quite a lot,” commented Lucifer when she had to pull back for a moment. Somehow, he sounded both hoarse and smooth. He tried to joke, but his eyes were serious and almost… desperate. For her.

 _Everything,_ thought Chloe hazily, leaning for another kiss. The flames in the fireplace warmed her cheeks, and her heart and each fibre of her being. Lucifer was still keeping his hands on her waist, and his touch was much warmer than fire. And then his mouth slipped lower and his hands reached a bit higher and Chloe felt as if she was burning.

“Detective,” he muttered against her neck, all pretences of nonchalance gone, “are you…”

“Yes,” she replied quickly. “Yes, yes, yes.”

The whole world shrunk to the circle of warm light from the fireplace. Chloe let herself forget about the darkness outside it and all the things that could go wrong. At least for this moment, it was only here and now, the light and warmth and this man with her she had wanted for so long… and, apparently, he wanted her too…

It was perfect. More than she had ever hoped it to be.

* * *

The first doubts reached her much later, in the middle of the night. Chloe woke up abruptly, opening her eyes to the semi-darkness of Lucifer’s bedroom.

How much awkward is that going to be tomorrow? Actually, they didn’t talk about anything – again. She had no idea, what did it mean for Lucifer. As the matter of fact, she wasn’t even sure what it meant for her. Should she behave as if nothing changed? Oh, but to start with, why should she assume that anything changed? It was certainly one of the best experiences in her life – Chloe cringed, trying to avoid the infamous ‘best night’ expression, but it still unpleasantly grated in her mind – but… was it special for both of them?

And more importantly, should she return to her room now? The electricity returned some time ago, she would do on her own. And if they woke up in the separate bedrooms, it would be easier to behave on the morning as if nothing happened.

 _No,_ she decided suddenly, cuddling closer to the warm body by her side. Lucifer didn’t wake up, but his arm immediately sneaked around her in a tight embrace. The warmth and tenderness of this gesture helped Chloe to decide. She would take the risk. If he tells her, that for him it wasn’t anything special, she will accept it. But until then…

 _Until then I am going to hope for the best,_ she thought, falling asleep again.


	18. Leaving the garden

_Perhaps no one would miss the devil for a few decades?_ Lucifer wondered lazily, stretching on the deckchair. The detective was sitting near him, reading something. Lucifer didn’t pretend to do anything else than looking at her.

Could he spend the next years just like that?

Of course, he didn’t mean sitting in the garden in his house on the hills, though in the detective’s company even this simple activity was surprisingly attractive. They could do so many things – things that suddenly gained entirely new appeal when he imagined they would be doing them together.

The detective shifted on her chair.

“You are staring,” she muttered.

“Yes,” replied Lucifer serenely.

He could close his eyes if she wished. After all, each time he did it, all he saw was Chloe in front of the fireplace, all gold and warm in the glow of flames, with her hair like a molten light falling on her shoulders, when she leant to him, to give him all he dreamt of - and more.

It was as if this moment transferred him into a new, magical world where everything was simple and everything was possible.

Yes, there were so many possibilities, for him and her, to do together. They would return to her work, where he would keep caring for her safety and comfort. They would travel, perhaps. He saw the whole world, but in her company, everything would be new. She would surely force him to some of these infamous hiking trips. Lucifer was never the fan of wild nature, it reminded him too much of the Garden. However, with Chloe, even the most painful memories wouldn’t hurt that badly. So, he could do a few trips with her and the spawn. He wouldn’t mind that little sticky urchin that much. It could be even fun, to watch her grow and change into even more strong-headed and impudent young women.

_Change?_

With time Beatrice would grow and change. The detective, even if slower, would change too. Lucifer would not.

He didn’t have decades. The detective would notice much sooner, that he was not ageing.

The air in the garden suddenly appeared colder, as if chilled by the draught of the endless passages of time, behind and ahead of him. Something in Lucifer twisted painfully and he inhaled too sharply, drawing Chloe’s attention. She raised her eyes from the book to him.

“Bored?...” she asked with a smile, that had to be indulgent, but simultaneously her voice shivered slightly, tinged with uncertainty.

Lucifer looked at her warmly. “Certainly not.”

“Good,” Chloe nodded, her smile getting wider, and returned to the lecture, only to interrupt it again after a few seconds. “But if you prefer to be at Lux tonight, that’s fine. You can go.”

Lucifer shook his head with distraction, sinking deep in his thoughts again.

The detective was human. They were basically different species, there was such a gap between them. Her life was… defined, purposeful, painfully short. He was wandering through centuries, going nowhere, getting nothing but short-lasting distractions… But perhaps he could forget it for a moment, and just take, what he was given?

The detective loved him. She was very generous in showing with the simplest and sweetest caresses, with every touch, look and gesture seeking his closeness. For a moment, Lucifer tried to see himself through the detective’s eyes: a slightly weird, impulsive man with a mysterious past. He could… pretend to be… exactly someone like this.

He could pretend to be a man. A human. Nothing more.

Just a playboy with a crazy image, who gave up his exotic lifestyle when he met his true love. Yes, there were a few fairytales themed like this and humans loved their fairytales.

He could do it, he could live a fairytale.

What was it? Working, travelling, having fun during the hiking trips… He imagined, that they could go on like that – live a life filled with care and pleasure, having fun and taking care of each other…

For a moment, Lucifer nursed this vision, as a little happy picture closed in the snow globe.

But that would be a lie, wouldn’t it?

If he tried to deny himself, to forget the Hellfire burning in his veins, the wings itching to be released on his back… it would be a lie, and Lucifer didn’t lie for a reason: lies never lasted long. The reality would catch on them, sooner or later. His past and future would claim their present.

With a sigh, Lucifer rubbed his forehead, for the first time feeling overwhelmed.

“Listen, if you do not feel like sitting here, you do not have to.”

This time, there was a sharp edge in the detective’s voice and Lucifer looked at her with surprise. He wanted to defend himself, but in the same moment quiet, quick steps nearing to them from the gate drew his attention.

“We have a guest,” he said and stood up, to welcome the intruder, not even trying to hide his irritation. “Mazikeen! By all means, do let yourself in. Why bother with a doorbell?”

“Since when do you mind?” The demoness replied mockingly, walking slowly into the terrace. She shifted suspicious glance between him and the detective.

“So, that’s what you have been doing all that time,” she stated, smirking. “Finally.”

Lucifer for a moment wondered, how did she guess, because there was no obvious evidence – they were both clothed, in the moderate distance and the detective started to blush helplessly only after Maze’s remark. But then, it was Mazikeen. She had probably sniffed it, or something.

“Maze, we… I… the investigation after my kidnapping revealed a curious trail,” replied hastily the detective, simultaneously sending Lucifer an anxious glance. The devil wasn’t sure, why was she so flustered, so decided to remain silent. “It is possible, that we will uncover a big affair, involving one of the mob bosses who escaped from prison,”

“Really?...” Mazikeen looked unimpressed. “Cool, I guess. It is one of these assholes I have lammed?”

“Actually not,” the detective shook her head, regaining confidence. “But they may lead us to him. We are waiting until Oscar Tejada recovers enough so that we would be able to interrogate him.”

“But he is still in the coma. Good job on this one, Maze,” observed Lucifer. “There is also another chap, we talked with him together in Pierre’s apartment, remember?”

“That pitiful drunk wreck?” the demoness raised her eyebrows. “He turned out to be of use?”

“Yes, only that…” the detective hesitated, “actually, we still need to confirm it. We are waiting for Dan to arrange a meeting.”

That was true. Lucifer wouldn’t bother himself with such detail, but both the detective and the douche were extremely cautious about that gangster’s safety. Chloe insisted, that there should be only one person contacting him, and it had to be Daniel. However, the douche got a new case requiring a few days on the stake-out, and meeting with their new informer had to be postponed.

“We still need to talk with the guy,” concluded Lucifer.

Mazikeen raised her eyebrows. “How busy have you been in the last days. No wonder you do not answer the phone,” she commented with a malicious smirk, that quickly changed into sultry one. “Is it too early to ask if you are searching for someone to the threesome?”

“Maze!” gasped the detective. “How can you… I… I will make you coffee,” she concluded awkwardly, retreating to the kitchen.

“Too early it is,” nodded the demoness, with moderate disappointment. “But you will remember…”

“No I will not,” hissed Lucifer. “Forget it. What brings you here, Mazikeen? Did the Lux burn down? Mother has sneaked back into this world? The seventh seal was broken? Because otherwise…”

“Nah, I just wanted to have a chat.” Mazikeen absently looked around. She noticed the hound laying in the sunny part of the lawn and neared to great him. “Hi, old fellow.” She tried to kick the beast in the ribs, but he lazily rolled away, looking at her numbly. “What, did you forgot how to speak? And what are you doing with your tail?” she frowned.

“He is waggling,” sighed Lucifer. “The behaviourist complained to the detective that he was not making progress and Chloe was worried, so we introduced some adjustments,” he pointed at the fluffy tail still waggling friendly in the air. “As for limiting the… communication, it was his idea. He pretends to be a dog. It seems he prefers to be… domesticated.”

Mazikeen snorted with amusement. “He is not the only one,” she said pointedly.

“What do you need, Mazikeen? You came to talk, then talk.”

“Not with you. With Decker,” the demoness with a short not pointed toward the house. “What?” she defended. “I saw that in the movies. When the girl has relationship problems, she talks with her friends. It works. Usually.”

“Perhaps in the movies,” muttered Lucifer. “And I assure you, the detective and I have no problems. On the contrary, we…’

“Not her relationship problems. Mine,” hissed Maze.

“What?...” frowned Lucifer, but the demoness was already entering the house. She stopped at the threshold, only to call:

“Do not eavesdrop! I know your hearing range! And the hound too,” she pointed at the dog. “I do not want him to gossip about me to the other Lilim later.”

The devils shook his head in disbelief. What was it about?... Still frowning, he took one of the dog toys the detective bought and waved for the dog.

“Come, Hound. We have been exiled.”

He threw a toy into the far corner of the garden and the beast, driven by the combined hunting instincts of the dog and the demon, dashed behind it like a streak. Lucifer followed him. If Mazikeen didn’t want him to listen to her conversation he would respect it.

Movies and relationship problems. One could say that the first of the Lilim was also becoming… domesticated.

Mazikeen, the hound… maybe he was exaggerating his doubts? If his demons managed to adapt, maybe there was a hopeful future possible for all of them? A happy ending?

“Or maybe not,” sighed Lucifer, finding the hound over the remains of the toy, that cracked under the pressure of too strong jaws. The beast stood confused, nuzzling the colourful, now useless pieces.

The devil, dejected, sat by the hound’s side and patted consolingly his neck.

* * *

Whatever problems Mazikeen wanted to share with the detective, must have been discussed before Lucifer decided to join them again. When he entered the house, he heard the detective ending a phone call.

“We had a great idea,” she said, looking at Lucifer with the satisfied, slightly distracted smile indicating, that she has dealt with some professional issues. “Maze would guard Chaney until Dan would manage to get him into the witness protection programme.”

“He will be delighted,” commented Lucifer ironically. “Mazikeen?”

His voice carried a tone of warning and the demoness nodded: “I will behave.”

The detective didn’t notice their exchange, occupied with checking something on her phone. “LAPD would pay you for this, Maze. I asked Dan and he said he should be able to get you a contract.”

“Cool. I’ve just got the money from the bounty but everything extra is fine,” nodded Mazikeen. “Speaking of which, are we still roommates, or are you moving to Lucifer permanently? I need to know whether you are going to pay your half of the rent.”

Lucifer had to close his eyes, struggling for patience. Why exactly did he bring that Lilim from Hell? Or why didn’t he took her back, when she was whining for it? She had been nothing but trouble from the beginning. That was definitely not how he wanted to discuss with the detective their arrangements…

“Of course we are still roommates, Maze,” replied stiffly the detective, her eyes stuck in the phone screen so intently, as if she was reading something of extreme importance. “As soon as the repairs are done, we are moving back.”

…And that was definitely not what he wanted to hear. Mazikeen sent him a pitying glance, doubtlessly enjoying his disappointed expression.

“We need to meet Dan,” continued the detective, all business-like. “He will take us to Chaney. I guess that with Maze involved we can risk meeting him in person. Then we would discuss the details. I already called Dan and he gave me the address,” she looked at Lucifer questioningly and the devil nodded. Then the detective took a deep breath and announced: “I would only need a couple of minutes to pack my things, because… because I think we should move back to Lux.”

“Oh,” Lucifer, confused, looked around. That house, so… impersonal and not entirely in his style, had grown on him in the last days. Very much, actually. So many good… memories. His sigh wandered from the fireplace to the couch, and toward the bedroom, and then to the kitchen counter and the swimming pool…

His thoughts must have been written on his face because the detective pointedly cleared her throat and when he looked at her, she was red with embarrassment again.

“Are you sure? I thought you liked the garden?” he said quickly.

“Yes, but Lux is… in the better point of the city. It will be easier to get everywhere. Besides, don’t you miss the club? Your performances?”

There was something in the detective’s voice Lucifer couldn’t decipher. Some… determination, if he had to name it. It made him consider her words with more caution. He missed his piano, true. He would like to play for the detective. What he felt to her… it escaped words. It would be easier to show it through the music. The club? Could be fine too. If the detective wanted the night of dancing and booze, he would be happy to provide, even if he preferred the intimacy they had here, in this remote, secluded place.

Oh, but whom he wanted to cheat? It was not about intimacy. Here, in this… impersonal house, he could pretend to be anyone.

Just a man in love.

In the Lux, he won’t be able to forget, that he was the devil.

Well then. His stays in the paradise had never been long.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Let’s go back.”

* * *

“What did Mazikeen want to talk with you about?” asked Lucifer when they were driving to Los Angeles. More precisely, it looked as if he and Maze were competing, which one of them would score more risky driving manoeuvers and narrow escapes. Chloe sincerely regretted, she couldn’t drive in her own car. She would reach the meeting point set by Dan half an hour later, but at least she wouldn’t have to struggle with the wave of nausea and panic at each sharp turn of the road. Unfortunately, her vehicle was left at the parking under the Lux.

“Hmm? Maze?” the detective asked incoherently. “Ah, that. Hey, it was a private matter, I am not going to tell you.”

“Mazikeen has private matters?...” surprised Lucifer so naturally, that for a moment Chloe wanted to say something about being – or not – an asshole for his oldest friend. Then she recalled that relations between him and Maze escaped common definitions and she was never able to understand the dynamic between them. Probably, they both didn’t understand it themselves.

Even if she wanted to tell Lucifer, what Maze asked her about, she wouldn’t be able. Her roommate described the problem so vaguely and dimly, that Chloe didn’t quite understand, what it was about. A relationship problem perhaps. A matter of trust, that might have been failed. But whom was she speaking about? Chloe didn’t even understand whether Maze was referring to a romantic relationship and whether it was about a woman or man.

“You need to speak openly about your… doubts, Maze,” she said finally, a little impatient with the blurry conversation. “Ask for the truth. Tell… that person that you deserve to know the truth, okay? Perhaps you won’t like it, but at least you would know.”

Maze nodded eagerly as if Chloe had said something very revealing.

Actually, that was quite a good advice. Chloe should probably follow it herself.

In the last days, her mood swung from endorphin-induced bliss to the wave of doubts clenching her stomach in the most unpleasant manner.

Sex was great. To tell the truth, she has never expected, that the sex can be so good. And, surprisingly, it was not about technique, only about – Chloe wondered for a moment how to describe it – about connection. She expected that Lucifer would try to impress her. Instead, he was devoted to… learn to know her. It was touching, and breathtaking and wonderful and Chloe hadn’t even hoped she would meet someone with whom she would feel so… close. Yes, close. There was no better word for it.

However, Chloe was experienced enough to know that even the best sex never solved any problems. If anything, it created new ones.

Even so blissed out as she was, Chloe had to notice finally, that something was… not entirely fine with Lucifer. From time to time, he spaced out, so lost in thoughts that he didn’t hear her. After the moment of most intimate closeness, he would suddenly become distant.

With no other troubles at their threshold, the detective had to come to the conclusion, that he was getting bored.

It was the most obvious explanation. After all, it was more than a week since he had last been at his club, among people. First, he was searching for her, then he locked himself with her in this secluded quiet house… She loved it here, but Lucifer was a performer. He couldn’t be happy without an audience.

That’s why Chloe insisted on returning to the Lux. Even if it broke her heart a little, she needed to leave their happy bubble and test their relationship in real life. Of course, she was determined to hope for the best, as long as possible. She tried to believe, that they started to build something solid. That they would work out the differences and with some concessions…

Nope. She would never accept sharing Lucifer with someone. This was not… negotiable. Even the same thought of him flirting with his fans made her squirm with anger and envy. Simultaneously, some weaker part of her whispered, that once Lucifer would return to his usual lifestyle, they would drift apart. That she would not be enough and...

 _I am hoping for the best,_ she recalled herself. _And the advice I gave Maze was great. We need to speak openly. About concessions… and all._

The car’s engine stopped working and the detective realized they are already at the parking. She needed to delay all her personal issues for later, because now it was time to speak with Dan, and then with Chaney… Chloe felt the familiar thrill of solving a case and thought hopefully, that perhaps things would work out somehow.

She got out of the car and looked around. Maze’s red vehicle was parked nearby.

“Mazikeen was first,” observed Lucifer with a light grimace, that however quickly turned into cajoling smile. “That’s because I have been driving cautiously, taking into consideration your… oversensitiveness to speed limits.”

“Oh, did you?” muttered ironically Chloe, wiping the sweated hands on her trousers. During that crazy drive, she kept them so clenched, that her palms started to ache. “Well, let me tell you this, once we return to work, I am the one driving.”

“Cannot wait,” agreed immediately Lucifer. “That would be even better, I won’t have to look at the road.” He smirked to her suggestively, indicating what he would look at and Chloe couldn’t help but blush.

“Let’s go,” she said with distraction, trying to herd her thoughts at the professional trail again, but instead of turning away, she stepped a bit closer to Lucifer and raised on her tiptoes – and a second later they were exchanging heated kisses in the middle of the parking. That was actually very nice, and she didn’t mind the parking or all these people around them… but through the happy haze in her brain pierced the thought, that they might need to redefine some rules because it might be difficult to work like this.

“Let’s go,” she repeated with regret stepping back.

Lucifer nodded, looking at her with puzzling satisfaction. Chloe cast a glance at her reflection in the display window and hastily started to correct her dishevelled hair, trying to ignore Lucifer’s hand that remained on her waist. She needed to focus on the meeting with Dan, and think about the security measures concerning Chaney… and what they had to discuss concerning Maze’s involvement… but the touch of Lucifer’s hand of her waist was more and more distracting. It was literally burning her skin, even through the thick fabric of her jacket. Very pleasurable, though not entirely proper recollections, of what these hands can do, flooded her mind… until she realized they are going to have a meeting with her co-worker – who happened to be her ex-husband - and that she didn’t tell him anything about her new… relationship yet. They definitely should speak about it, calmly. They should also discuss, what to tell Trixie.

Actually, she should discuss what to tell Trixie with Lucifer first. The last few days were wonderful, but they didn’t talk much, at least not about… essentials… and now all these matters they didn’t talk about started to swarm around Chloe’s head, like bees.

“This won’t do,” she stated decisively, stepping out of Lucifer’s reach. Or, at least, she intended to and failed, because his arm instinctively wrapped tighter around her.

“What?”

“I am not ready to… make it public. You know – us,” Chloe made an undefined move with her head. She felt stupid, and she must have looked stupid too, and Lucifer for a moment appeared so hurt, that she very much wanted to hug him, but she concluded with determination: “I need time. There are things we need to discuss first.”

“Right. Of course.”

Something strange to define passed through Lucifer’s face, before he schooled his features again in the neutral expression. He let her go, stepping away. Chloe immediately regretted the absence of his touch. The place on her waist, where his hand rested a moment before, felt almost painfully cold.

However, she nodded and started to walk.

It was safer this way. Otherwise, everyone at work would soon know, that Chloe and her consultant are ‘a thing’ and… The detective bit nervously her lips. Yes, she was afraid that when Lucifer would leave her, everyone would know, how disappointed she was.

But she was determined to hope for the best, wasn’t she?

Besides – she cast a quick glance at Lucifer, trailing behind her, a few steps away - that was not right. In the last days, they were almost constantly, this way of another, touching each other. Why should they deny it now? Pretend?

“No, this won’t do as well,” she muttered almost angrily, reaching for his hand and pulling him closer.

“Detective?” Lucifer looked at her, raising his eyebrows.

“We will not lie,” stated Chloe with determination. “That would be a lie, to pretend, there is nothing between us, right? And if you do not lie, so I will also try not to.”

“Ah,” Lucifer looked at her with some unreadable, but complex emotion in his eyes. “Detective…” He hesitated and didn’t finish. In a second, his expression was careless again. “As you wish, but you worry too much, Darling,” he said lightly as usual. “It is only the Douche. He is convinced we were sleeping together for weeks anyway.”

Chloe shook her head, a little discouraged by his airy tone. Lucifer was not… treating it as seriously as she, that was obvious.

 _But it doesn’t matter,_ she realized with sudden clarity. _I want to risk. I want to give… everything. Without any walls remaining, without an easy way out._

And even if it was going to cost her pain a humiliation, that was a risk she was going to take. At least once in her life, she was going to give everything and… well, yes, just have a hope it will turn out well.

* * *

Keeping hands must have been too teenager for Lucifer, because when they reached the address Dan gave them, he was embracing her waist again, in the gesture that left no doubts about the nature of their relations. Chloe didn’t protest, even if public displays of affections weren’t exactly her thing. She only hoped that Dan would keep any possible malicious comments to himself.

But when they got to their destination, Dan didn’t say anything. He looked… not well. Tired, perhaps? Besides he and Maze were occupied with another problem.

“Chaney does not want to let Maze in,” he explained with a weary expression, pointing at the closed door to the apartment. “He is too scared.”

“Yes, Mazikeen might have been a bit harsh with him during our meeting,” stated merrily Lucifer. “Let me do speak with him, I will try a more civil approach.” He opened the door to the apartment, but as soon as he passed the threshold, they heard was a frightened outcry, that turned into an almost animalistic whine. The detective quickly pulled Lucifer back, closing the door.

For a moment, they listened to the sobs coming from the other side of the door. It was something like ‘please don’t’ and ‘I am sorry’.

“Now it is exactly like another day in the office with you,” muttered the detective, glaring at her consultant. “All right, I will speak to him. Stay here,” and quickly, before anyone, her fears including, managed to stop her, she entered the apartment, closing the door behind her.

And then she had to halt, fighting the wave of panic.

For a second, she was again in the cellar, kept by the rough hands and beaten… and this man, with mockingly compassionate expression, moved her hair to see her bruised face… She struggled for breath, when it all came back, like a wave of something shameful and ugly…

But the moment of panic was gone, when she gradually acknowledged, that now she was free and safe, with her friends on the other side of the door and that man was sitting on the floor curled in a frightened ball.

“It is you. Why are you all here? He said I will have time,” he mumbled, looking at Chloe, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Time?” frowned the detective.

“To make up for my sins.”

“Ah,” nodded Chloe. “You mean Lucifer, right?”

“The devil.”

Chloe frowned. No wrecked mobster would offend her partner. “Okay, I know that you are afraid of him,” she said sharply, “and I am quite glad that you do because that’s how my friends managed to find me before your pal from the mob killed me, but… don’t call him like this. He is… a good person. Much better than you.”

Chaney stared at her, with numb, mortified expression.

“You are his, aren’t you?” he asked.

Chloe blinked, confused. “What?”

“You do know? Or don’t you?”

There was something maniac in the urgency of these questions and the detective only shook her head, giving up. This man’s mind was too deep in some twisted world of his. She could only hope, that his revelations concerning Tejada’s organization were not a figment of his sick imagination.

“I wish I have never met you,” muttered the man on the floor. “It is all because of you. If I didn’t go to Joel to see you, this all wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have met him,” for a moment, he looked at the detective with unrestrained anger, until his eyes widened with a new fear: “But then I would simply die and end down there without a warning, right?”

At this point, Chloe had no idea what he was talking about.

“Listen, Daniel Espinosa and I work together,” she said officially, coming to the business. “Your information may be valuable for the LAPD. We want to ensure your safety. I know you met Ms Smith earlier when she was looking for me, and I know also that she can be rough, but she certainly can protect you, in case your old friends would catch your trail. So be reasonable and…”

Chaney laughed, in the same maniac manner. “Oh, no, no. I do not want his witch around me.”

“Witch?” frowned the detective. That was new. Or did she misheard and he said ‘bitch’? Nevermind. “It is not that you are in the position to be picky. I will let her in now, and we will talk…”

“No!” yelled the man, crawling back violently, until his back hit some stool, knocking it down with a loud clatter.

In the very same second, Lucifer burst into the room, relaxing when he saw the detective standing in the corridor and Chaney, mortified on the floor. He waved calmingly for Dan and closed the door, stepping closer.

“Are you making progress?” he asked serenely. “Perhaps I can help you?”

“No, no, you said I will have time – time for… penance,” choked Chaney. The tears appeared in his eyes and Chloe actually felt sorry for him.

Lucifer apparently didn’t share her feelings, because he only shook his head with deliberate nonchalance. “No, I didn’t. I said that you should ‘hope’ for a long life to make up for your sins, but I didn’t ‘promise’ you that it will be long,” he said humorously.

The man on the floor started to cry.

“Lucifer, a word,” Chloe pulled her partner aside and whispered with reproach. “Please, don’t scare him, He is helping. Be… kinder.”

Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “Why should I? Because he is cooperating with the LAPD? He is doing it out of very selfish reasons.”

“No, because he is terrified… and deserves some… compassion.”

“He deserves nothing like this!” hissed Lucifer angrily. “He is an evil, cruel man, who got a glimpse of possible punishment and now attempts to avoid it!”

Chloe cleared her throat. “When I was kidnapped… he tried to persuade Tejada to let me go.”

“Just because he was afraid of me! Otherwise, he would be the first one to manhandle you!”

Chloe nervously bit her lips, realizing that Lucifer was right. A flashback from Tejada’s cellar struck her again, when this man, now crying on the floor, raised her chin as if she was a piece of meat to inspect. _Such a nice pretty thing,_ he said. _At least before the beating._

Whatever good Chaney tried to do now, it was caused by fear. The truth was sometimes bitter, but it was a truth nevertheless.

“You are right,” she sighed discouraged.

“Let’s get back to business,” Lucifer briskly turned to Chaney, causing him to flinch back.

“You told me that I will have a chance,” the gangster begged hurriedly, not letting the frightened sight from Lucifer. “That if I… if I manage not to end… down there… you won’t hurt me.”

Lucifer measured him with a considerate glance, crooking his head. “Not exactly. But I guess you could have made such assumption. So be it then,” he decided, sounding very generous. To Chloe’s surprise, Chaney sighed with evident relief.

“Now, calm down and listen,” Lucifer rubbed his hands. “LAPD needs to… prolong your miserable existence as long as possible. I am offering my assistance. Mazikeen would not hurt you if I forbid her.”

“Of course, we will also get you into the witness protection programme,” chimed in the detective, feeling the need to regain the control over the conversation. “Though, if Oscar Tejada really managed to escape prison staging his own death, I think that you may need any assistance possible until we… take him down.”

“I am sure he is alive,” nodded Chaney. He slowly crumbled from the floor, standing up.

“Well then, do tell,” encouraged him Lucifer.

“I will call the others,” said Chloe, opening the door, to let Dan and Maze in. This time Chaney didn’t protest, even if he cast a quick, anxious glance toward Maze. The brunette smiled to him obscenely licking her lips, but at Chloe’s reproachful glance remained in the distant end of the room.

“The oldest Tejada is alive,” repeated the gangster. “I didn’t meet him but… I am certain anyway. The whole family… When he was declared dead, the family organized the funeral. And the feast after that. I had seen the glances they exchanged. The smiles.”

“Perhaps they were happy to take over the business,” chimed in Dan quite soberly.

“It didn’t look as if the business was taken over. No big changes, you know? And in each important matter… they said something about… consulting. It is a big family, they are often consulting something… but still, it became a pattern. And finally, I asked Joel if it is true that Oscar is alive… and he laughed. And it didn’t seem that I said something stupid. It was rather as if he knew something and couldn’t tell.”

“All right, that sounds promising,” said Chloe. “And clues where he can hide?”

Chaney shook his head. “You must understand, I am not a member of the family,” he said almost apologetically. “We made… deals together, but I wasn’t in the inner circle. I am sure he was changing the hideouts, never staying too long in one place. That’s the basic tactic. And recently it must have been a place without… conveniences. You see, Joel has been asking me about so-called… survival equipment. Sleeping mats, portable cookers, stuff like this. He said he needs it for hiking trips, but he is the kind of man who never leaves his car.”

“That’s not much,” said Chloe with consideration, “but at least it is something to start with. Perhaps we would get something more when we speak with Joel Tejada.”

“You would not put us on into a trap, would you?” asked sweetly Lucifer, measuring the gangster with scrutinizing glance. “That would be very unwise of you.”

The concrete mobster started to shake like a leaf. “I would never!... I swear that… Please.”

“I don’t think so. If it was a trap, he would give us more precise directions to the location,” muttered Chloe, putting a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder in a calming gesture – and froze at the sheer terror, that appeared on Chaney’s face.

He stared at her hand resting on Lucifer’s arm as if there was something terrifying in this simple gesture.

This man was sick, it was as simple as that.

Despite her better judgement, Chloe once again felt sorry for him. He needed a doctor. Psychological support. And at the moment, they couldn’t provide him with that. What if he breaks down before it would be safe enough to arrange a therapy? All she could give him now, were a few consoling words… but what value would they have, if he kept shaking, looking at Lucifer in terror as if he was seeing some monster in place of her handsome partner?

Driven by the sudden impulse, Chloe asked: “Maze, Lucifer would you mind waiting outside for a second? Please,” she added, seeing that they both want to argue. Surprisingly, it worked. Lucifer waved for Maze and they left, leaving her and Dan with their informer.

“Listen, Aaron,” the detective said as warmly as she could. “We just want to protect you, okay? We want to bring Tejada and the whole gang to justice and give you chance for a new life.”

“I need time,” he replied quietly, with the same haunted expression as before. “I need time to make up for my sins…”

“Yes, I know,” Chloe did her best to not sound impatient. “And we are doing our best so that you would have time to… make your peace. So, accept our colleague. I know you clashed with her before, but she is… she is a professional.” As the matter of fact, Maze was nothing but professional, so Chloe altered her last statement. “She is capable of protecting you from Tejada’s goons.” Yes, that was true.

“And he said he won’t let her hurt me, right?” the man looked at Chloe hopefully.

“Right,” she nodded with all seriousness, even if some imp in her whispered, that Lucifer actually didn’t say that. He said that Maze wouldn’t hurt him if he asked her not to, but he didn’t say, that he asked her... Ah, nevermind. Whatever worked.

“The witch must listen to the devil,” mumbled Chaney. “And the devil keeps his deals.”

The detective couldn’t help but roll her eyes. _Whatever works,_ she repeated silently, though the level of absurd in this conversation was getting too high.

“But what if I die too early anyway?” Chaney asked suddenly, stricken by the new wave of panic. “What if I do not have enough time to make my penance and…”

“Listen, dude, sometimes the intent is enough,” said suddenly Dan. He shrugged his shoulders at Chloe’s surprised sight. “What? Sunday school.”

“Right,” agreed awkwardly the detective.

Surprisingly, Dan’s words helped. The gangster nodded in agreement: “Okay. Fine. I will… trust you. But only you, right? Not him. He is not what you think.”

“Great,” Dan, rubbed his hands, entirely oblivious to the last comment. “We would need to move you into another apartment. We should discuss it now, with Maze.”

“I will call her. And Lucifer and I would leave now, if you don’t mind,” Chloe stood up when Chaney suddenly grabbed her arm.

“He is not what you think,” he repeated with a haunted expression.

Chloe froze, struggling with the urge to strike this man. She wanted to send him sprawling onto the floor, just to get rid of his touch... But it would be the show of weakness on her part, wouldn’t it? Luckily Dan, sending her worried glance, removed Chaney’s hand from her and she slowly let out the breath, that she didn’t know she was holding.

The gangster didn’t pay attention to any of this. He whispered, lowering his voice: “You have no idea… I thought you know, but you have no idea who are you dealing with.”

The detective exhaled shakily, trying to hide how distressed she was. This was getting too much. Recollections of her kidnapping… and this weird conversation… she was never good in talking with… mentally handicapped people. She recalled her terrible visit in the asylum when she tried to speak with Jimmy Barnes… and for a moment felt sick.

She turned to leave.

“He is lying to you,” called Chaney behind her.

Chloe shook her head, in an attempt to gather herself. She sent the gangster severe glance. “You do not know him well. Lucifer never lies.”

Chaney snorted with rasped, bitter laughter.

* * *

_When there are so much lies between two people, something is bound to backfire, sooner or later._

This… opinion, expressed by Linda during their meeting just before the detective’s kidnapping, reverberated in Lucifer’s head all the way to the Lux. It was accompanied by Chloe’s words to this gangster, overheard by him through the thin door:

_He is a good person. Lucifer never lies._

Doesn’t he really? Because suddenly he saw it all as one big lie on his side.

That miserable, filthy gangster was right. Lucifer cursed his hearing range - he would very much prefer not to eavesdrop the conversation between the detective and Chaney, because now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wasn’t who the detective thought him to be. And if he… keeps on pretending… they won’t get far, because _if there are_ _so much lies between two people…_

He should speak with her... openly. Tell her ‘who is she dealing with’.

 _If you do not lie, so I will also try not to_ , she said earlier. As if he was some kind of… paragon.

She put her faith in him and he took it, though he knew, he had not right.

But… it had been so good. The last few days… They had been so good together, even with all these secrets between them. Why couldn’t he have just a bit more of it? Once they start talking, this all may end. She was a Miracle, after all, and he was, who he was, and perhaps this had been the plan from the beginning, to meet them and then to drive them apart…

Great. Now he was thinking about the damn bloody plan again.

“Enough,” he muttered, pulling the car into his usual parking spot in front of the Lux.

“What?” the detective looked at him. “Enough of what?”

“Nothing,” Lucifer shook his head calmingly. “Just talking to myself. Awful habit, really. I should work on it, or I will turn into one of these freaks that keep mumbling to themselves running around in the cheap low quality…”

“Okay, that’s fine. Really,” the detective raised her hands. “I get it”.

Lucifer got out of the car and stopped, surprised by the enthusiastic outcries around him. Right, it was almost evening and in front of the Lux had already gathered a considerable queue of guests waiting for entrance. Apparently, he was missed after the week of his absence, because when the regular visitors recognized him, they cheered him louder than usual. What’s more, cheers turned into thrilled gasps, when the hound jumped out of the car.

Lucifer regretted that he did not drove in the underground parking. Usually, he thrived in the attention of the crowd, but now he found it irritating. He had no time for that. And the hound was no mascot. For a second he imagined that squealing crowd dispersing in panic if the hellhound would lose its glamour and show his true, not so friendly shape.

He looked around searching for the detective and noticed, that in the meantime she moved into the driver’s seat and signed to the wallet, that she would take the car to the underground parking herself.

“Oh, no, Detective,” he protested, opening her door. “Trying to sneak through the back entrance? This won’t do,” he mimicked her earlier statements.

The detective reluctantly got out of the car, casting an unsure glance at the colourful queue in front of the Lux.

“I was just trying to save your image. Your fans might be disappointed seeing you with such… boring circumstances,” she pointed at herself and her very casual travel bag.

Lucifer rested his hand at the car hood, for a moment trapping the detective against it, enjoying the way her pupils widened and breathing speeded at his closeness. If he kissed her now, she would allow him, no matter the crowd observing them. He wouldn’t do that, knowing she would not be comfortable with such public display, but still, he enjoyed her reaction. And he could always joke a little.

“Detective, if you find the scene boring, we can spice it up, if that’s what you desire,” Lucifer smirked knowingly, leaning even closer to her. “I guess that the occasion requires carrying you through the threshold.”

Chloe inhaled sharply, panicking at the very thought of such a scene in public. She pushed by him and dashed to the Lux as if she was in pursue after a very dangerous criminal. Lucifer chuckled, looking behind her. Boring? That was simply… delightful.

His smile, however, faded, when he imagined that Chloe running in the opposite direction… after learning the truth about him. After all, did she know much that more about him that this crowd in front of the Lux?

It was unfair, that the wrecked gangster, who saw the fires of Hell in his eyes, knew more than she did.

Lucifer saw clearly, what needed to be done. He had to speak with her, no matter the risk of losing her. Otherwise, their relationship would never be much deeper than what he could get from any stranger in the Lux – and that meant that he would lose her anyway.

Perhaps he should do it tonight.

 _After all, no time like a present,_ Lucifer thought gloomily, when the elevator took them up to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincere thanks to all Readers and Reviewers. Thank you for staying with me!


	19. Small lies, big issues

All Chloe’s fears seemed to confirm when she was looking at the sombre expression on Lucifer’s face as they were driving in the elevator to his apartment. She imagined that this moment would look differently. During the meeting with Maze, Dan and Chaney, her thoughts kept slipping to the moment when they would be alone again. She expected that as soon as the door of the elevator would close behind them they would start kissing and from then on the things would progress into even more pleasurable direction…

She had hoped for it, kind of.

Apparently, that was not going to be the case. Once Lucifer saw this crowd in front of the Lux, he must have realized that the steady relationship didn’t correspond well with his usual lifestyle.

 _He doesn’t know what to do with me, now, when we are back,_ thought Chloe bitterly, entering the apartment. Anyway, she would unpack now and…

“Detective! I believe that there is no use in bothering the guest room,” Lucifer called to her. “There is more than enough place in my wardrobe to fit this tiny bag of yours.”

“Really?” the detective blinked with surprise. “I didn’t expect that. Not the wardrobe, I mean, I will never doubt your wardrobe. But do you really want to share a room? I thought you would like to… have some space, once we get here,” she said honestly.

“Oh? Space?” Lucifer raised his eyebrows and walked toward her, smiling cajolingly. At least for a moment, the gloomy expression disappeared from his face. He touched her waist – with no more than his fingertips, but that was enough for Chloe to feel a pleasant shiver.

“Please, Detective. Share this space with me,” he said with comic solemnity, looking her in the eye.

And damn, he knew how to look.

Chloe melted in his sight, all her reasonable reservations not that important anymore.

“Yes,” she replied, probably with a goofy smile.

She realized a second too late that it meant she was going to share with him this ostentatiously luxurious bedroom, with that throne-like steps, but with no door. Well then. If she couldn’t keep a cool head and refuse him when he asked that nicely, she would now have to develop an exhibitionist streak.

Somehow, this woke in her the urge to protect her… limits. She didn’t have to change everything in her life, right? Some private time, just to regroup, would serve her well.

“I will stay here tonight. I mean, I am not going to the club,” she added lauder because Lucifer didn’t acknowledge having heard her. “Have fun. And do not bother yourself with me. I will take a nice long bath or something like this. Lucifer?...”

Great. He spaced out again.

“Lucifer?...”

He flinched as if waking up from deep consideration. “What? A bath? Great idea.” The strange, perhaps a bit haunted expression disappeared from his eyes, giving place to the usual, brisk enthusiasm. “Yes, the talk can wait. After all, we should celebrate out return to the Lux. A bath would be great. That would require candles, music, drinks… just give me a moment to fix it,” he said quickly, shedding his jacket.

“Lucifer, wait,” the detective stepped in front of him, raising her hands. “I meant I will have a bath. Like, alone. So you do not have to worry that I will be bored when you go to the club.”

Lucifer frowned. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t pay attention. What happened in the club?”

Chloe couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Nothing happened. Just… the evening. You know, your performance… people, drinks, all that jazz,” she laughed awkwardly.

“Ah, that. No, detective, I didn’t plan visiting the club tonight. Now, about that bath. You are terribly overdressed for it,” he tried to sneak an arm around her waist, but this time detective stepped back and raised her hands once again, to stop him, this time more decisively.

“Wait. You missed the club, right? Lux is your life.”

“No more than a blink of it.”

“A blink of… Then why did you behave… like this?” The detective felt her voice falter into almost unpleasant shrill. Perhaps she should leave it and concentrate on that bath.

“Like what?” Lucifer asked helplessly.

“Like you were… bored. You… You just keep spacing out… you are distracted… I thought you missed Lux, and all that… entertainment, you have here… so I thought you would like to return here and… you know, have it back.” Great, now she felt the tears started to gather in her eyes.

Lucifer remained silent for a long while. “I guess we really need to talk,” he sighed finally.

“Okay,” Chloe tried to swallow, struggling with a lump in her throat. Now she would very much like to withdraw, just to have one more careless evening… but that was too late. The mood between them suddenly got serious and the bedroom felt inappropriate for that kind of conversation, so she slowly walked to the living room, sitting on the sofa. She expected Lucifer to fix the drinks first, but he didn’t.

“I guess I was feeling guilty, Detective,” he said, looking somewhere aside. “You know that I despise lies… and I started to realize, that I have been lying to you.”

“About what?”

“Myself.”

The quick exchange for a moment hung in the silence until Lucifer took a deep breath to continue.

“I haven’t been honest with you, Detective. You might have been mistaken about… about me and about… what our… relationship may involve.”

How carefully was he choosing words… _He doesn’t want to hurt me,_ realized Chloe and struggled with the urge to curl into a ball and cover her ears.

“But… but you have just invited me to share your bedroom,” she blurted out without thinking.

Lucifer grimaced. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have,” he admitted. “Not before we… discussed things.”

 _Okay. Okay._ The detective took a deep breath, trying to gather herself. It is not that she didn’t expect it, right?

“I thought about it,” she said, ignoring Lucifer’s surprised frown. “I am sorry, but if you are proposing some kind of… open relationship, I am not into it. I thought I may try, but… no. Sorry.” And no, she wasn’t able to prolong this discussion. She couldn’t listen to him saying that he needs something else, something more, that she was not enough… “Let’s just try to… rebuild what we had before, okay? It was… it was good,” she nodded once again and stood up, to leave before she would not be able to hold the tears any longer.

A second later she landed on the sofa because Lucifer jumped up and grabbed her arm so awkwardly, that they both lost their balance, falling down

“That’s absolutely not what I had in mind,” defended Lucifer at the shot moment of mutual confusion. “Let me explain.”

“Please do,” muttered Chloe, trying to scoff away from him.

“To start with, Detective, I am not bored,” he started slowly. He made no move to pull her closer, but turned to her, trying to look her in the eye. “I do not miss the club or mingling in the crowd. I love Lux because it is the first place I created just for myself, but that’s all.”

Chloe shook her head in slight disbelief but didn’t interrupt him. Lucifer appeared very focused and even if he exaggerated a little, he certainly tried to be sincere. So, she remained silent, while he raised his eyes as if searching for the right words and continued.

“I like company. I like humans. I am… I have always been intrigued by them. However, no one is as important as you. Chloe, you are everything. The relationship… the open relationship, as you say, I didn’t think about it, I…” he hesitated for a moment and blurt out: “Detective the others are like toys, I could play them with you, but… only if you wanted, and…” his voice trailed off slowly and the frown on his face deepened until he shook his head decisively.

“No, scratch it. I couldn’t. Everything, that involved someone else touching you, is out of the question. So, no open relationship it is. Since we agreed on it, can we move to serious matters?”

“That was serious to me,” muttered the detective, half-heartedly, her whole attention focused on revelling in this short, perfect sentence, she just heard.

_Chloe, you are everything._

She moved closer, cuddling to him, and closed her eyes, recalling these words over and over again. “Okay, speak.”

* * *

Lucifer looked around in search for inspiration. Should he really start a difficult subject now? The detective was so… insecure, maybe he should keep on convincing her a bit longer, how important, how perfect she was? Actually, it seemed almost egoistic, to move to his confession now. He should make better use of their time. For example, this bath. It would be a good occasion to work on… making Chloe feel… loved and appreciated.

 _No stalling,_ he reproached himself. He needed to tell her the truth. He needed to do it now. Otherwise… He already started to lose her. He cannot pretend, that everything’s fine because the lies would drive them apart.

 _Lies? No, not lies. Misunderstandings. Misinterpretations,_ he corrected himself, but simultaneously felt it didn’t matter. The result would be the same.

And now they had perfect conditions for a serious conversation. No distractions, no hurry, full concentration. Just them and the important subject to discuss.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked suddenly.

The detective wordlessly shook her head. “Just spill it out,” she encouraged him.

Why was he so nervous? In the past, he had stood up to everyone, God including. He never counted the odds, respected no authorities and was always ready to put everything on one, weak card. And she was only a mortal woman. Fragile, limited, and infinitely dear.

For the first time in his life, he cared.

“Detective I am the devil,” he blurted out. The weight of this sentence was somehow dissolved by the fact, that the detective was nestled herself under his arm, cuddling even closer in search for the most comfortable position.

“So you keep saying,” she replied, entirely unaffected, even a bit sleepy. “But what exactly does it mean?”

“Just that,” Lucifer, with a sigh, shifted back his arm so that she would be able to move away if she wished. “All this is real. Everything, I have been telling you since we met, everything you chose to ignore, is true.”

“Hey, I don’t ignore anything,” the detective defended, remaining cuddled to him just like before. “I just… I don’t understand. I am not that good with these… metaphors. With all this stuff. I am not Linda, okay? You need to tell me exactly what you mean.”

“Detective, I... I am the devil,” he repeated a bit helplessly, once again. “It means that… well, I am not… as evil as the world claims. But I am not good either. As the matter of fact, until I met you, I didn’t care… about being good, or evil… and now I am not certain any more. However,” he raised his voice slightly, forestalling the detective, who already opened her mouth intending to protest, “however I did many evil things. And not only, because I had to. Sometimes, I even enjoyed it,” his voice stuttered at the last words.

Chloe shifted by his side, but not to move back, only to look him in the eye. “But you wouldn’t enjoy them anymore?” she asked quietly, and when he shook his head, she decided, with some innocent, almost child-like generosity: “So that’s fine. That doesn’t matter anymore.”

For a moment Lucifer was tempted to end this conversation here. To take this… absolution and not to dwell further. She most probably didn’t believe him still, but he did what he could, right?

Well. He did not.

“Detective, once again – it is all true. I have been… the adversary for a very long time. Even if I am a different… person now, nothing would change the past. And my past might catch up,” he added, suddenly realizing, that that was a risk she should be away of. After all, consorting with the devil, could have consequences. “It may catch up, with me and with you, if you stay close.”

“Ah. I understand,” Chloe nodded, suddenly with a very serious expression. “Now I know what you wanted to speak about.”

“You do?” Lucifer asked hesitantly. Somehow, he doubted it.

“Yes. I suspected something like this. I… I considered it already. I mean… okay, I am scared. How could I not be? I need to think about Trixie and I am not… happy with such luggage. But I understand that your past comes as a package with you. So, I thought about it. And do you know what conclusion I came to? That I have a dangerous job too. So, there is always some risk. And so far, my past that caught up with me first,” she chuckled.

“It is rather… hard to compare,” commented Lucifer very cautiously.

“Yes. Yes, I know,” nodded the detective, engrossed in some thoughts. “Listen, if you want to… trust me with the details, we may figure something together. There are legal means to ensure your safety. And if not… you do not need to tell me anything, right? I accept it. Perhaps it does not speak well about me, but I accept it. Just… instruct me, generally, what kind of… danger we are exposed to. You know, some red flags, I should be aware of.”

Lucifer measured her with a skeptical glance. Was it really so easy? She was afraid for the safety of her daughter, which was understandable, and this was all?

“Red flags? That would be difficult to define. My siblings have the wide range of specialities and my Father… well, He can do literally everything. Omnipotent, right? So… wait, ‘legal means’?” he frowned suddenly when her words reached him. “What are you talking about actually, Detective?”

“Well… ‘family’?...” Chloe raised her eyebrows and evidently waited for him to catch it. “Okay, mob?”

“Mob?”

“Your past?”

“My past has nothing to do with some filthy mob,” exclaimed Lucifer with sincere outrage. “Their past may have something to do with me, but let’s not exaggerate.”

The detective looked at him with a frown. “Dan always thought that you left a mob. He even typed out a few possible organizations.”

“And the Douche is not necessarily the temple of wisdom, I thought we already established that,” snorted Lucifer. “No, Detective, we are not afraid of the mob, not even a bit. They owe me too much.”

Somehow, the detective didn’t look fully convinced. “Okay, so what were you talking about? What are we afraid of?”

Lovely, it seemed that they were at the starting point again. Lucifer sent a wistful glance toward his bar and took a deep breath.

“My family. My past. You know, the devil,” he sighed, struggling with the urge to spell it. “Cast out of heaven. A lot of bad celestial blood. Manipulative Father. A few unsettled scores. A few pissed off feathery pricks. Disappointed demons. That kind of things, Detective.”

“Ah, that.”

The detective sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. She finally shifted, moving away, but to Lucifer’s surprise she appeared rather tired, than panicked. She stood up and – bless her – went to the bar to pour the drinks for both of them. After handing him the tumbler, she wrapped all of the sudden her arms around his neck and kissed his forehead.

“Listen, Lucifer, I never thought I would have to deal with something like this, and I am not prepared for it… I certainly do not have qualifications… but I will try, right? I will be doing the therapy with you, and I will try to… find the way into your… inner world… and perhaps together we would find the way out for you? I will do my best to help you. And I accept you as you are. With all that… that you carry with yourself.”

 _Inner world._ Lucifer closed his eyes with resignation and simply pulled her into a kiss.

That was Chloe Decker, the most rational human being on Earth. She certainly never believed in Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus. As a child, she must have waited in a stakeout to catch her parents leaving the gifts under the Christmas tree.

Still, he had to appreciate the fact, that she loved him enough to accept him, even thinking that he was… a delusional ex-criminal.

“You are good, Chloe,” he said wistfully.

 _A Miracle,_ gritted something unpleasant, deep in his soul, but he silenced it.

“I love you,” she replied simply.

Perhaps they could end this discussion right now and move to nicer and sweeter things? This would be for the best. Lucifer put his tumbler aside and wrapped his arms around Chloe, pulling her on his lap. She conceded gladly, the corner of her mouth curling in a smile. It would be so easy to… to give into her soothing presence. The touch of her skin, the softness of her hair, all these generous caresses she bestowed upon him…

He would never manage to convince her that his… inner world was a very palpable reality. She was simply too focused on rationalizing everything. The hound attacked her kidnappers in his true form in her presence and she considered it all to be a trick. Lucifer flew her into a safe place on his angel wings and she convinced herself that she fainted.

And he wanted to have her close. He wanted these kisses and cuddles and he wanted to hear her say ‘I accept you’ with such sweet conviction. She said it twice tonight. Isn’t that enough? Couldn’t he just take her words, and her closeness, and her body, and enjoy it? _Third time is a charm_ , as they say. What if he would persuade her to say it once more, and just … take it?

_But now he would need to show her._

A breath hitched in Lucifer’s lungs, a cold feeling nestling in his chest when he realized, what he should do now. He tried to tell her, twice. She dismissed him.

Yes, third time was a charm and now he needed to show her.

Lucifer shivered at the thought, how… terrified and disgusted would she be, if she saw, what kind of monster was she kissing. Miracle or not, her sanity would be under the heavy trial if she suddenly saw his monster form.

On the other hand, he could show her the wings.

The wings. Suddenly something in him tugged with unexpected longing when he recalled how the detective whispered ‘They are gorgeous’, seeing the mere copy. At the very same thought, that she could look at the real thing with the same expression, he felt his wings shifting in another dimension, eager to… show off.

The chances, that she would stay, were the highest if he had shown her the wings. They were pretty and told the story of goodness and light.

Maybe that was Father’s plan? To force him to choose, between showing her the devil’s face or the angel’s wings? In the first case, she leaves, in the second, she stays, but there would be consequences because everything connected with the wings must have been a part of the Father’s plan to turn him into obedient little angel again.

 _No, I cannot,_ decided Lucifer. _Not even to keep her. I am no angel, I will not lure her with the Grace that’s not mine anymore._

So, it left the devil.

He gently took her off his lap and seated her on the sofa, to put some distance between them

“You need to know I would never hurt you, Detective,” he started with resignation.

The moment his words sounded in the air, he started to wonder, whether it really was the truth? A few unwanted pictures flickered in his mind. Chloe, breaking down in the boxing ring, when he played on her deepest regrets. Crying in the service corridor in the Lux. Resigned, lost, oblivious. It was his doing because he didn’t help her in the right moment… only pushed her down, just because… because he wanted retribution. Not on her, on Father, but she was the one that suffered anyway.

“Actually, I made mistakes and I did hurt you. I am sorry,” he corrected himself.

She ran her fingers over his cheek in soft caress and nodded. “Candy. That’s fine. That’s in the past. And I am sorry too for how I… overreacted.”

“No, it is my time to apologize. Detective. I shouldn’t have married Candy and let my mother’s intrigue drift us apart. I shouldn’t have left, when you sent me away, I knew you were suffering. I also shouldn’t let this stupid lieutenant, your boss, hurt you, or I shouldn’t have messed with your apartment. And to start with, I should have talked with you long ago.”

The detective frowned, looking at him cautiously, as the gravity of his words finally reached her. Lucifer shifted slightly back, allowing her more space.

“I just want you to know, Detective, that whatever may…”

“What did you say?”

Her sudden words disturbed his concentration. “Nothing yet,” he replied slowly. “I didn’t finish the sentence. And actually, it is more about showing, than telling. Detective…”

“No, before that.”

“Before?”

“About my apartment.”

And unpleasant feeling crept on Lucifer’s neck. He tried to ignore it with a shrug. “It was not safe. You were receiving threat notes.”

The detective decisively shook her head. “One note. And I received it, when I was already moving here. I had to leave my apartment because of urgent repairs,” she said slowly. Her voice lost the tender tone and her scrutinizing sight made him feel like in an interrogation room – on the wrong side of the table.

“Detective, I was about to open my soul to you as never before. Can we…”

“Lucifer.”

 _Bloody Hell._ “I missed you, Detective. I was so miserable without you.”

“He owed you a favour, right?” she asked sharply, suddenly resistant to his pleading glance.

“Who?”

“The owner of my apartment?”

“Yes,” sighed Lucifer, giving up.

The detective froze for a moment with opened mouth, looking at him – and there was no trace of previous warmth in her eyes.

“What the hell, Lucifer!” she shouted, jumping up from the couch. “Did you really – did you stage it? To make me move in here? Just like that?”

“Actually, yes,” muttered Lucifer. Why did he suddenly felt so bad about it? He was about to confess much worse things. When did his devilish coming out become unimportant, overshadowed by that small… detail? “I was worried about you,” he said quickly. “You were alone. There was someone after you, and you were behaving… you weren’t cautious enough.”

“I… what?” Chloe choked on the air. “So, you did it for me? You – what – you forced me to move out of my home? For weeks? Playing a good host, all that time? And lying straight into my face?”

 _I didn’t lie,_ wanted to defend Lucifer, but suddenly he thought that pointing it out to the detective might not be the best idea. From her point of view, she might have felt a little cheated, even if technically he didn’t lie… Perhaps, sometimes technicalities didn’t matter that much.

“Detective, I missed you and wanted to… take care of you,” he said with all sincerity he could muster. “It was easier to achieve while having you close. Otherwise, you wouldn’t agree. Besides, we had a good time, didn’t we?” he smiled cajolingly and stood up, reaching for her.

Chloe jerked back. “Don’t – touch me!” she warned, looking as if she regretted that she had no gun. “And yes, I wouldn’t agree, that’s the damn point!”

“But…”

The detective combed the hand through her hair. “Fuck!” she bridled and Lucifer flinched because he had never heard her curse before. “You know what – that’s… that’s… How could you do something like this behind my back?” she called and her voice broke.

Lucifer wanted to reach for her again but didn’t dare anymore and his hands left hovering in the air.

“Detective, aren’t you exaggerating?” he said with desperation. “A moment before you thought I was the part of some filthy criminal organization and that was fine. Then you came to the conclusion that I am some moonstruck whackjob, and you kissed me. Why are you making so much fuss about one little ruse? What’s the difference?”

“One little ruse?...” Chloe repeated in disbelief.

“Yes. You are… inconsistent!”

She looked at him, blinking.

“I don’t mind it, though,” Lucifer added quickly.

“You know what – there is a difference,” she said suddenly, choking on air – and tears – again. “It is – it is a matter of trust. You – you failed my trust. How can you not see it?...”

Lucifer wanted to protest, but the detective raised her hand as if signing, that she was done with the subject and marched toward the bedroom, only to grab her still unpacked travel bag.

Lucifer felt as if the ground was slipping from under his feet.

“Detective?...”

For a second, he felt the overwhelming urge to stop her. To hold her, and make her stay and listen to his apologies, or promises, whatever – but he knew, that trying to stop her would be the worst option at the moment. Terrified, he watched her leave the bedroom, his heart sinking somewhere deep and dark with each her step…

But she didn’t go to the elevator. She went to the guest room, slamming the door behind her.

Lucifer let out a shaky, relieved breath.

She stayed, so there was still a space for… talking. He would do that, he was good at talking. Actually, perhaps she didn’t recognize it yet, but if she stayed – it meant that she wanted to be persuaded. He was not going to lose her. He would give her some time, just for her adrenaline level to drop – and then he would try to reason with her again.

But the devil would not be making an appearance today, certainly not! Lucifer felt utterly humbled by that moment of panic when he thought that the detective was going to leave the apartment – and his life. How could he be so haughty a moment before, claiming he would not show her his angel wings, ‘not even to keep her’? What a bloody idiot he was!

Now he knew, he would do anything, just to keep her.

If that was a damn plan, he was too deep into the trap to get out.

Lucifer looked around, sending pensive glance toward the bar. Strange, but he wasn’t in the mood for drinking. Instead, he rubbed wearily his forehead. He had to admit, that this conversation was a… catastrophe. But why?

Something was amiss.

She wouldn’t believe him and he… ‘How can you not see it?’ she asked, with the tears in his eyes. Was he really… not seeing something vital? He thought that the detective was blinded by her rationalism, but what if he was blinded too… by something…

And the bloody plan of his Father.

He was about to prove her, that he was… responsible for some really big issues, like chasing the humanity out of the Garden and stirring the fratricidal conflict within the heavenly host. Why did he trip over something so insignificant? And why was he suddenly feeling so ashamed for one small ruse, based on the best intentions, while he never felt guilty for any of his huge family dramas?

With a sigh, he walked slowly toward the door to the guest room, just to check, whether Chloe was crying. He heard nothing, but almost stumbled on the hound who slipped between him and the door, blocking his way. Lucifer looked with surprise, taking in the tensed muscles and alert stance.

Right. The hound was… guarding.

“Just lovely,” snorted Lucifer. “You are mistaking your role. I would never harm her.”

Reaching over the hound, he knocked at the door. “Detective! May I…”

“Go away!” she called immediately. It didn’t seem that she was crying, but she certainly was still angry. Very angry.

The hound shifted anxiously and for one small second bared his teeth.

 _Beware,_ Lucifer thought to the beast menacingly. _I am starting to crave for a little clash._

He felt the demon emit the wave of fear, but also desperate determination. However, after the initial threat, Lucifer only waved his hand, turning away. Yes, the impudent beast needed a lesson and the devil would welcome a bit of violence, just to unload all these emotions that started to overwhelm him… but he couldn’t touch that stupid hound. The detective would never forgive him.

He was about to go for a drink after all, when, for the second time today, he heard well-known steps on the stairs leading from Mazikeen’s apartment.

“Maze!” he called with relief, not sure whether he was going to ask her for advice or for a little sparing. “How good…”

The stone-hard fist landed in his solar plexus, robbing him of breath, and simultaneously the kick in his shin sent his sprawling onto the floor.

Sparing it was, questions could wait. Lucifer used the momentum of the fall to roll and stood up, ready to intercept Mazikeen’d next blow… that never came. She was just standing in front of him, clenching her fists, trembling with… anger? Of course, it was anger, Mazikeen would never give in to any other emotion.

“Damn you and your fucking brother!...” she shouted, gasped for air a few times as if fighting with something strangling her throat and barked: “Where is Decker?”

Lucifer wordlessly pointed at the guest room. The demoness entered, slamming the door behind herself, much stronger than the detective a few minutes ago.

The devil measured a doorframe with an absent glance and rubbed his chin. What was that about? He could suspect that the detective called Mazikeen for support, but the remark about ‘his brother’ confused him. It seemed, that Maze came here with her own distress.

Lucifer looked at the hound. _Go there,_ he ordered, _let me have a peek._

The beast hesitated, but then scratched the door, whining. The door opened for a moment, just to let him in, and immediately closed again.

After a second, the hound sent a picture to Lucifer’s mind. _The detective was sitting on her bed, hugging Mazikeen, who was… crying?_ But the Lilim never cried? _Chloe looked as confused, as Lucifer felt, embracing Mazikeen very cautiously as if she was dealing with a wild animal. And yet – her hands were rubbing soothing circles on her back, and she was whispering some words of comfort._

The hound ended the connection and didn’t communicate anything more, even if Lucifer tried a few times to connect with him.

The devil slowly walked to his bar and finally poured a generous drink. The good side of this new development was that the detective would be distracted from their very recent quarrel. The bad side – that he had no idea what it was about.

He reached for his phone and called Amenadiel. It took a few long seconds until he picked up.

“Brother, do you, by any chance, have anything to do with the fact, that I have been just punched by the very angry Lilim?” he tried to quip, only to be cut off by the harsh reply:

“I am not going to talk about it with you.”

Lucifer looked at the phone with surprise. Usually, Amenadiel was the embodiment of patience. What kind of drama happened in the meantime? “My, my, what got you so grumpy?”

“I tried to tell you. A few times, actually,” snapped his brother. “But you never listen to anyone but yourself. You just… you just do not notice anyone!”

“You know what – for once we can agree: you do not want to talk about it and I do not want to listen,” retorted angrily Lucifer. He was getting tired with everyone accusing him of… of not noticing. He could listen to the detective’s reproaches – actually, he would be even glad, if she started to talk with him again – but he drew a line there.

“I have enough of my mess to deal with,” he added angrily.

“What happened?” asked Amenadiel a bit softer.

“I don’t want to talk about it as well,” muttered Lucifer. “Just a mess.”

And then, all of the sudden, the anger left him, and he added with a sigh: “I tried to talk with the detective. You know, like really talk. It didn’t go as planned and then turned to the total catastrophe.”

“Did she… did she reject you?” asked Amenadiel in awe. “After learning, that you are the devil?”

“No, we didn’t even get to that part.” Lucifer snorted with bitter laugher when the irony of the whole situation got him. “I tried to tell her, but she didn’t believe I am the devil. She is furious at the human.” He laughed again, rubbing his forehead. “And this time I cannot blame Father. I am the only one, who messed it up.”


	20. Fixing it (all at once)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, the whole story, all these 120 thousand words, led to the final scene of this chapter. It might not be what you expected. I am aware that the dynamic between Lucifer and Chloe is most attractive, however, I believe that the most important things happen inside Lucifer's soul.  
> Chloe may not be aware of it, but it doesn't mean, she is not important. She is, very much. She had the courage to love, to hope, to stay - despite her previous disappointments. Without her, nothing would have happened.  
> Courage and hope is important :)

The little café in front of the precinct was almost empty so early in the morning. Lucifer was the only guest sitting behind the table, the other customers were only grabbing coffees and cakes to go. The devil measured the pile of lemon bars behind the counter with a considerate glance. These were the ones he usually bought for the detective when they were working together. Would it help now, if he got some?

“Hi,” said Daniel, sitting in front of him. “Why did you want to meet so early? Is it about Tejada? He is getting better. I think that in a day or two we would be able to interrogate him.”

“Really?” Lucifer passed absent glance over lemon bars again. Certainly, the head of a gangster would be a better apology gift? Metaphorically speaking, of course. He wasn’t going to murder anyone, though at the moment, after the sleepless night, he would gladly soothe his nerves indulging in a bit of violence. The uncomfortable side of the detective living in his apartment was that after their quarrel he didn’t dare to smash or break anything, though he very much wanted to. However, as for Tejada, he would simply go to the hospital, wake that miscreant from his sweet slumber and squeeze the confession out of him. The detective should appreciate that.

At least, she would start talking with him again.

“Where is Chloe?” asked casually Dan. “Usually, she is an early bird.”

“The detective and I had a little quarrel yesterday,” Lucifer replied honestly. “I feared that she may refuse to leave her room in my presence, even for breakfast. So, to save her from starving, I decided to start the day early.”

Yes, that was why he left the apartment at such early hour. So that Chloe could eat breakfast undisturbed. The unavoidable conversation could wait a few more hours.

“Does she usually tend to… hold a grudge for a long time?” he asked a bit unsurely.

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “She divorced me, so you see for yourself… Just kidding. No, Chloe is not the one to sulk without a reason. Unless you really pissed her off,” he added with a malicious smirk. “You did, right? And now what, you wanted to ask for advice?”

“The most certainly I do not!” exclaimed Lucifer. “No, Daniel. I decided to do something for you.” He looked at the detective with a generous smile, but having met with a blank stare, bridled impatiently: “Come on, Daniel, your expression forces me to question the ‘sapiens’ part in the name of your species. Okay, I will start slowly.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and Lucifer cringed, that small gesture reminding him of the detective – how was it possible, that he missed her so much after just a few hours? Still, he took a sip of his coffee and started to speak with the usual ease.

“I spent a sleepless night – and not in a funny way – which gave me the occasion to consider a few issues. For example, I wondered, whether I indeed tend to… omit… the matters of people around me. While I do not find it true…”

“Dude,” chimed in Daniel, leaning toward him, “I have never met anyone, that would be more self-centred, narcissist and...”

“And I didn’t ask for your opinion,” interrupted him Lucifer. “Anyway, I came to the conclusion, that I could have ignored… no, it is rather that I did not intervene on a few occasions, where perhaps… I could have… given some input. So, I decided to make up for it now and I am going to start with you, Daniel. You should be the easiest,” he concluded smoothly.

Daniel Espinosa sent him a tired glance. “Thanks, but I am fine. No input necessary here.”

“But you need it, Daniel. I saw it weeks ago when you came to Lux to ask for my help. You are not better now,” sighed Lucifer. For a moment, he allowed himself to see Daniel – to really see. The weariness, even so early in the morning. The lack of smile, the lack of any spark in his eyes. The shadows – the figments of his conscience, wrapped around him, marking his every step… Once in the Below, the shadows would get a material form, building a Hell loop just for him, torture of wrong choices and missed chances.

“You are much worse, actually. There are… issues, gnawing you, Daniel. Regrets, that are hanging over you. Usually, I do not intervene. Not my role, you see. Now, however, I think that perhaps I should, just because… I can.”

“I have no idea what are you talking about,” Dan shrugged his shoulders, looking aside. From his defensive stance, the devil knew, that, on the contrary, the detective did know.

“Fine. Let’s take the simplest approach. Daniel, what is that, what you desire, most in the world?” Lucifer started lightly, putting barely any effort in the question. For a moment he thought, that his mojo didn’t work when Dan replied with ease:

“I want to help Chloe. I want to take care of her.”

Now, wasn’t it a neat, proper answer? The devil already prepared to dig deeper into the detective’s mind, when Dan added with that well known, lost expression in his eyes:

“And now she has you and does not need me anymore, so I am not sure what to do.”

Well, well. So, Dan gave in with no resistance. Lucifer frowned, as he remembered him to be stronger. Anyway, it only proved, that Dan was at the verge of sanity.

“But you cannot tell her,” concluded the detective, looking at Lucifer with sudden anxiety.

“Why?” Lucifer’s frown deepened “Why don’t you want her to know that you are… a friend?” he probed Daniel’s mind a bit more, searching for the answer. Where there some feelings, he was ashamed of? Some secret desires? Some regrets?

“I don’t deserve it. I betrayed her,” blurted out Daniel and suddenly it was as if Lucifer found a wide and straight path into his mind. The words literally crowded on Dan’s tongue. “I lied to her about Palmetto and that was the moment she needed me most… and that’s how I ruined our marriage… And then I messed it up again before the process of Perry Smith, I fucked up something so important for her… because it was about her father… I met him once, you know? John Decker. Years before I met Chloe. Really decent guy. So I tried to make up for it and it ended even worse, because…”

“Don’t tell it. We both know, but…” ‘but it would not make you feel better’, wanted to warn him Lucifer, but Dan already said it:

“I killed a man.”

Right. Perry Smith and the little rendezvous with the mob.

“You didn’t pull the trigger,” tried Lucifer, knowing, it would not help much. Danie’s eyes remained haunted and glassy.

“The past is in the past. It cannot be changed,” the devil tried again, but all of the sudden, the words got a double meaning, striking him back, like a returning missile.

 _The past was in the past._ So easy to advise, whereas… his whole life was... branded the past.

No. He didn’t want to think about it. He concentrated on Daniel again. “You need to accept it, whatever you did. Otherwise…” the words got strangled in his throat.

That was all wrong. Daniel. He needed to focus on Daniel.

Suddenly, a new idea came to his mind and he snapped his fingers, to draw Dan’s attention. “You need to do something for yourself, Daniel. Something new. If you were a free man… free from your past… what would you desire, most in the world?”

Moving aside, whatever uncomfortable through flickered though his mind, Lucifer dug deeper in the human’s soul. This time he tried hard, skillfully searching for that part of each man, that seeks happiness, joy, latitude. That wants to laugh and have fun. Whether it is sex with a pretty stranger, dancing in the rain, eating junk food without counting calories or high-speed driving the motorway…

“Charlotte Richards,” sighed Dan with a goofy smile. “She is amazing.”

“What?...” Lucifer shook with an unpleasant surprise. “Riiight. And why I thought that you could be able to make rational, safe choices.”

Daniel didn’t seem to hear him. “But she cheated me before the process of Perry Smith. I cannot forgive her, because it was important for Chloe. Otherwise, I wouldn’t mind that much. It is hot when a woman is clever. And a bit wicked. I like it,” confessed Dan, leaning toward him, his mind and self-control apparently melted into jelly. “Especially when…”

“Please, I didn’t want to go that deep,” Lucifer interrupted him quickly. “All right, are you certain there is no other long-legged lawyer of policewoman with dominant streak you could turn your sight to?”

Daniel shook his head, dreamily, but decidedly. “Charlotte is… one in a kind.”

“Very well. You wanted it,” sighed Lucifer. “So, here is the moment I can help you. I can tell you, that Charlotte Richards had suffered for some complex… identity crisis. You know about the accident that caused her… amnesia… but she was… she wasn’t exactly herself even earlier.” Lucifer looked straight into Daniel’s eyes and said slowly: “Charlotte Richards is not responsible for what happened on Perry Smith’s trial, or before that.”

Daniel looked at Lucifer more lucidly, processing information. “That’s some kind of… neurological condition?”

“Something more complicated. But if you want to meet her now, it would be like… starting something new with a clean account.” Lucifer smirked and retreated, letting the reality flow between them again. “I am not promising it will end better this time. But your fate is in your hands, Daniel.”

Daniel Espinosa blinked a few times. On his face appeared the expression of relief mixed with embarrassment. Then he fully came to his senses and for a moment looked scared. “Lucifer, what… I fell strange... We were discussing – what?... Did I say something…”

“You didn’t say anything unexpected,” replied quickly Lucifer. He was not in the mood to discuss the confessions concerning neither the murder of Perry Smith nor the recollections of the hot sex with his mother. “And nothing you should worry about.”

Now, that was easy, even if distasteful. In the worst case, he would not be taking part in the family diners, to avoid the sight of the Douche making out with the body that was occupied by his mother. Chloe would visit them alone.

Of course, providing that the detective and he would still be a couple.

Lucifer swallowed, suddenly feeling very unsure. “I will be going.”

“Yes,” nodded Dan, still confused. “And, as for Chloe, just apologize,” he advised. “Do not buy her anything. I tried once and she yelled at me that I am trying to bribe her. And it was only a box of chocolates.”

* * *

 _As though I could be thoughtless enough to buy some stupid chocolates,_ bridled Lucifer, parking in front of the hospital, where Joel Tejada was being treated. Of course, he bought the package of lemon bars, but it was different. Lemon bars were… personal. They would prove, that he knows the detective’s taste. That he spent a lot of time with her and paid attention to her and to what she likes.

The devil ranted internally for a moment, looking at the entrance at the hospital, but not getting out of the car. He could go inside, smile to the receptionist so that she would switch off the camera’s in Tejada’s room for a minute… sent the policemen that doubtlessly were guarding his room for a well-deserved coffee… and get the location of Oscar’s hideout in a minute. If he would bring the detective that information together with the lemon bars she certainly would be…

She would be furious.

Lucifer slammed his forehead into the steering wheel with helpless frustration. He remained in that position a few moments until he calmed down a bit. The detective wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t include her in the conversation with Tejada. She would probably also mind him charming the receptionist or bribing the unis.

He would need to come here with her, once she settles the meeting.

Providing that she would still be willing to work with him. For a moment, Lucifer imagined that she decided to leave and that when he returns to the apartment it would be empty… all her things packed and missing…

He had no idea what to do. He longed for something rash and violent, but that wouldn’t solve anything.

Finally, the devil reached for his phone and called his brother.

* * *

“I have made a good deed today,” he complained a bit later when Amenadiel let him into the scrappy office that served him as the apartment. “I have sent the troubled man… well perhaps not at the path of salvation, but certainly toward more rewarding sex life. Ugh, that’s actually disgusting… Anyway, I have been… emphatic. I paid attention. Why don’t I feel better at all?” he bridled, looking around. “And how can you stay in such an awful place?” he wondered, picking up some plastic decorations, doubtlessly bought in a boring retail chain.

“Linda’s office is next door.”

“I know. But her place is elegant and tidy and she has some perhaps not unique, but at least original pieces of… Ah. I see. That’s why you stay here. Right.”

“What happened between you and Chloe?” asked Amenadiel in clumsy attempt to steer the conversation.

“I… I am not certain,” Lucifer shook his head. “A quarrel about something trivial. It really shouldn’t… Something is…” his voice trailed off. “I will mend it.” He said with false confidence.

_Something was amiss. That’s why he still wasn’t ready to talk with her. The problem was bigger than this silly issue of her apartment. He needed to mend it, but how could he, if he didn’t know what was broken?_

The devil abruptly turned toward his brother. “Enough about me. What happened to Mazikeen? She burst into my place yesterday, furious at you and, by the kinship, on me, searching solace in the detective’s company, which is quite unusual by demons. The latter, of course, not the fury.”

“She learnt that Linda and I are seeing each other,” replied Amenadiel with a helpless sigh. “And she got very angry. Linda’s fine,” he replied at the unspoken question in Lucifer’s eyes. “Mazikeen wasn’t violent. At least not for her standards. But she was… raving.”

“I warned you to clear the things up with her, didn’t I?” recalled Lucifer accusingly. “All the Lilim are fixed on the issues of loyalty. They easily feel betrayed and then they are fixed on revenge. And Mazikeen… She is special. She was always… more. And now something is happening to her and…”

“I did not betray her!” defended Amenadiel, bridling. “We didn’t even meet that often recently. I had no idea she treated things between us so… seriously. ”

Lucifer measured his brother with scrutinizing glance. He believed him. Or, more precisely, he couldn’t believe that Mazikeen, the most beautiful and passionate daughter of Lilith, would suddenly go mad after his languid, boring brother.

“Perhaps it is about the doctor?” he wondered. “Did you consider it? What does she say?”

Amenadiel shrugged his shoulders. “Linda says they are friends. Or were. Just friends.”

“Friends,” Lucifer repeated slowly. “Maybe they were and you came between them. I know from my own experience that sometimes you do not notice, that your presence is not welcome.” He meant it as a joke, but somehow the words came out more crude than he intended. For a moment, seeing the hurt expression on his brother’s face, he felt something close to remorse.

“I was… welcome,” replied heatedly Amendatiel. “I am only trying to find my place. To… connect. To… to get some sense into my… existence. And to find out what I am doing here.”

“Penance does not sound well enough?” observed innocently Lucifer. He wanted to go easier on his brother, really… but the big guy was asking for it.

Amenadiel shook his head. “There must be something more behind it. Some lesson. Some wider plan.”

 _A bloody plan._ This one small word shattered Lucifer’s composure into pieces. He snorted with a bitter laugher.

“Some wider plan,” he repeated mockingly crossing the room in quick steps, just to release some of the anger coursing through his veins. “So, here we are again, ranting about the glorious plan.” He stopped, just to grab some figurine from the shelf and look at it. It was hideous. He put it aside and took something else.

“Oh, the Father must have fun, watching us, racking out brains over his intentions… scrambling and stumbling over our own feet… like the beetles in a bowl, who would try to peek behind the rim… and only keep falling at the bottom, over and over again!...”

“Lucifer,” whispered warningly Amenadiel and only now the devil realized, that the trinket he was keeping, probably the chandelier, got crushed into dust in his hands.

“What? It was tacky anyway,” he shrugged his shoulders, brushing his hands off.

“The eyes,” sighed Amenadiel.

Lucifer leant over the window frame and looked at his reflection in a pane, trying to calm down, waiting, until Hellfire in his eyes diminished, giving place to the usual brown.

That was what he could show the detective yesterday. He could start with the eyes. The eyes weren’t that bad. Otherworldly, but not off-putting. The spawn probably saw it during their first encounter and it didn’t deter her. Certainly, the little bug inherited her spirit after her mother, so…

…But that was not going to be the case, because he would not risk losing her again. Providing that he didn’t lose her already. He needed to find her and convince her to stay, no matter what…

…Only that he would lose her anyway, sooner or later. Even if he would steal a human lifetime with her, she was going to die and go to Heaven, and he would not be able to follow. Perhaps that’s how Father planned it from the beginning, to leave him wiser, softer and so much more unhappy…

…What would happen, if he took Chloe to Hell? Would she die while passing the border? Would she wither within the timeless, hopeless dimension of the Underworld? Would she start to hate him? Was it, how it was planned from the beginning?... That his love would hate him?...

“Lucifer!” yelled Amenadiel and the devil realized that the crappy curtains covering the window are burning, the flames taking their origins in the blazes of Hellfire flashing over the skin of his hands.

Returning to his senses, Lucifer with a quick gesture forced the Hellfire to retreat and shrink, until the blazes turned into sparks and then snuffed entirely, hiding under his human skin, smooth and unblemished. In the meantime, Amenadiel extinguished the fire on the curtains.

The incident left the whiffs of smoke, the smell of burnt and black trails on the wall and window frame. Amenadiel huffed with irritation, exploring the destructions.

“Leave it. This place cannot look worse, then it already did,” advised Lucifer. “We should find you a nice, real house. Why don’t we go and search now, if there is something suitable…”

Amenadiel unsuccessfully tried to wipe soot from the windowsill. “No thank you very much. I don’t want you to search for a house for me. Just stop destroying the one I have.”

“We could find something near Linda’s,” tempted Lucifer. Yes, it would be a perfect distraction. He was very good at property dealing, and now his experience would serve his brother. Another good deed would go on his account. “She lives in a perfectly nice district. We need to…”

“No, Lucifer, what you need is to calm down. What’s going on? Is it about you and Chloe?”

The devil tried to smile, but the chuckle turned into an irritated snarl. “Ah, if there could be ‘me and Chloe’! It is always me and Chloe and this pesky Miracle problem,” he said poignantly. “A human with a touch of Heaven, is she not?”

For a moment, he wondered, what would it change, if Chloe had not been a Miracle. Probably her love would be easier. Less demanding. Most certainly, he wouldn’t love her that much, because he loved her now, immensely, just as she was, for everything.

Though, he would know that whatever developed between them was not a part of some plan, where they are played like toys. _There would be only he and Chloe._

“Yesterday you said you said, that you messed it up yourself. That you could not put that one on Father,” reminded him mercilessly Amenadiel.

The devil shrugged his shoulders. “Yes. I made mistakes. Something is amiss and I… I am just searching for it.”

“If you wanted to ask for my help in discovering the celestial secrets, I cannot help you. I cannot possibly be more human than I am now,” Amenadiel smirked with bitter self-irony and sighed, looking through the scorched window. “I am still wandering, like in the darkness. I don’t see the light or the goal, and most probably I am rambling in circles.”

That was the feeling very familiar to the devil. If the big brother was expecting some pity from him, he would be disappointed, because Lucifer spent centuries, wandering from one darkness into another. Luckily, Amenadiel gathered himself and turned to him, relatively composed:

“Lucifer, would you try to speak with Mazikeen? Linda was very distressed. She didn’t want to hurt Maze. Neither of us did. It just… happened.”

“Right. You wouldn’t believe, how often I heard it in Hell,” muttered Lucifer. “Mazikeen probably is in the Lux at the moment.” And apparently, there was nothing else left for him, except returning there.

To speak with Mazikeen.

And with the detective.

Though, he didn’t feel ready _. Something was still amiss._

* * *

The club was still empty when Lucifer reached Lux. The cleaning staff was polishing the tables and dusting the seats and Patric was checking the sound system. They all kept in a wise distance from the bar, which was occupied by Mazikeen. At the moment she was a perfect picture of a depressed demon: leaning over the counter so low, that she almost laid on it, staring numbly at the half-empty tequila bottle.

At the sound of Lucifer’s steps, she raised her head, and then straightened, tense and defensive. Lucifer understood. She let him see too much of her weakness yesterday.

“Well, hello, Mazikeen,” he purred sitting by her side as if he didn’t notice her alert stance. “I would never assume, that the detective would spend with you her first night at Lux since we are a thing. I guess you needed to put the such a tantrum to achieve it?”

“You know me. Whatever works,” Mazikeen replied, shrugging her shoulders, but her expression softened with gratitude at his light tone.

Lucifer reached for two glasses and filled them with tequila.

“So, just tell me,” he said, handing her one of them. “Tell me, what do you want and I will think, whether we could get it for you.”

Mazikeen took the glass and emptied in one gulp. Then she only shook her head.

“Who is it about?” insisted Lucifer. “The doctor? My brother? Because so far, it appears that you fancy both of them and in such case, I am certain that some ménage à trois could be arranged. My brother is dull but free from prejudices and the doctor is adventurous enough...”

Mazikeen shook her head once again, more decisively. “You should have told me.”

“What?”

“You should have told me, that your brother is meeting Linda,” she said slowly. “Why it was Chloe, not you, who told me, that they were dating?”

“Because Chloe,” replied cautiously Lucifer, trying to identify the problem, “Chloe thinks you are a human and she… applies human measure to your emotions.”

“Precisely,” hummed Mazikeen. “That’s why I punched you yesterday and that’s why I feel like doing it again now.”

Lucifer emptied his glass. “Mazikeen. You are a demon,” he stressed, raising hand in a calming gesture when she bridled. “I do not deny your emotions. You are passionate and possessive. However, I cannot believe, that you… care that much about someone, whether a human or an angel. I can’t believe that you would require monogamy in your trysts. Tell me, what is it about?”

“It is about trust,” muttered Mazikeen through clenched teeth.

Lucifer rubbed his forehead. The demon speaking about trust, lovely. He had enough problems with sorting his own feelings, if now Mazikeen started to overcomplicate things, this would become unbearable.

“Did they broke your trust, Maze?” he asked sneeringly, rolling his eyes. “That’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” hissed Mazikeen, “that they did not trust me. I thought we were friends. Yes, friends. Just like that. And they… They… kept their relationship a secret, because they were afraid of… how I would react. Because I am just a possessive demon, who can only rage and destroy, and who would not understand that…” her voice broke and she rapidly turned toward Lucifer: “It would hurt if Chloe was afraid of you, right? If she didn’t trust you?”

That was the moment, when Lucifer understood, what was amiss.

“Mazie, that’s it. You are genial,” he whispered almost in awe.

That was the problem. The lack of trust. No, not on her side, on his. No matter how close he and the detective were – he had never fully trusted her – not until he learned that she was a Miracle.

He didn’t trust that her to be independent in her decisions, he was making choices for her. He didn’t trust, that she could bring him happiness, considering her to be a part of the trap. He didn’t trust her to understand, to stay, to choose him, to be on his side…

That was the problem. That was amiss.

That was why he kept spoiling things between them.

That was what he needed to fix.

“I need to find the way out of it,” he muttered, more to himself, than to Mazikeen.

And none of it was the detective’s fault, so she wouldn’t provide the solution. He already caught the glimpse of what should be done and now he saw it more clearly. He needed to… sort it out. So there could be only he and Chloe.

“What again?” asked Mazikeen, looking at him scornfully. “Something between you and Decker?”

“Yes and no,” replied Lucifer with hesitation. “It is complicated, but…”

He felt a new wave of anxiety. Apart from the big, celestial, cosmic mess he had to order, there was also a more… domestic mess needing to be dealt with first.

Actually, he could sit here a while longer. Chat with Mazikeen, recognize the situation… prepare for the unavoidable conversation with the detective…

“Do you happen to know, where she is at the moment?” he asked almost shyly.

Mazikeen shrugged her shoulders again. “Unless she grew up a pair of wings and flew down from the balcony, she is still in your apartment, because no one used the elevator. Where was she supposed to go?”

“Nowhere. She… didn’t tell you?” Lucifer asked cautiously.

“About your little tiff? She mentioned something, but not much. She… she more like listened to me,” muttered the demoness barely legibly and quickly masked the confusion with a snort. “And on the morning she wanted to be helpful and search for ‘constructive solutions’, as she put it,”, Mazikeen, grimacing mockingly, made a gesture imitating quotation marks, “so I came down here. There is nothing as constructive as a bottle of good tequila.”

“Right, Mazie. After all, you needed someone to pat your head, not to force you to take some adult decisions.” He probably shouldn’t have said it, because Mazikeen’s eyes lit with the angry fire.

“Says who? A devil whipped by the little mortal? I’d like the other Lilim to see you now, squirming and whining… They would rebel, for sure, and I would need to kick their asses for you again,” the demoness, chuckling, reached for the bottle, filling her glass again. “Oh, I miss home so much. Things were so much simpler down there.”

“So they were,” agreed Lucifer, taking the glass from her hand and emptying it himself.

Mazikeen measured him with a cautious glance and, apparently moved by his melancholic attitude, suddenly softened. She said almost consolingly: “Don’t worry. I am sure it is nothing that good make-up sex wouldn’t solve.”

Lucifer swallowed anxiously. “I am not sure, she was furious. I simply wanted her to stay close and be safe.”

Mazikeed grimaced. “Ouch, you are pathetic. Just do not cry on me.”

“It was the simplest way to make her move in,” continued nostalgically Lucifer.

“What?”

“That little deal with this guy, the owner of her… of… actually of your apartment,” finished slowly Lucifer, feeling that he had just made another mistake. It was too late, however, to avoid a small, but strong fist collided with his nose because of course, Mazikeen hit first and discussed later.

“What?” she hissed. “Our bathroom? You bastard!”

Mazikeen, even soaked in tequila, wasn’t less deadly than usual and Lucifer barely had time to acknowledge the crunch of the broken tissue of his nose, until he had to duck before the second attack.

It was a good thing, that the cleaning staff didn’t leave the Lux yet. The club was bound to need their services again.

* * *

Chloe would never assume, that she would spend her first night after returning to the Lux squeezed between Maze and the dog. It wasn’t even comfortable – she felt like cuddled by two huge heaters. However, when Maze cried herself to sleep on her bed, Chloe had no heart to wake her up. Such emotional distress was something so unusual by Maze, that the detective forgot about her own worries.

She intended to speak with Maze more rationally in the morning. However, her friend wanted neither to listen nor to speak and as soon as Chloe tried to start a serious conversation, she made herself scarce.

And Lucifer wasn’t there.

He must have left the apartment before they woke up.

He didn’t even try to arrange a make-up breakfast.

Chloe swallowed the tears, that started to gather in her eyes, not sure whether she was more angry, sad or anxious.

Angry, of course. Everyone would be angry at her place, to be cheated like that.

She made herself coffee instead of breakfast and decided to do something constructive with her day. Why should he sit and mop for someone, who didn’t even care enough to leave her the smallest note after their first quarrel?

Chloe’s first thought was, as usual, work. It felt good to think about work again, it was simpler. She could, for example, shorten her holidays and return to the precinct. The rest of her due vacation would be left for a nice trip with Trixie. She even called Dan, to discuss it with him first – but her ex-husband was unusually skittish. He refused meeting with her, giving her some vague excuses, that he was busy and ‘had enough of this stuff for one day’. After that, he hastily ended the conversation.

Chloe shrugged her shoulders and thought she could instead search for some motel and move out. It would serve someone well, to find back to the empty apartment.

And no, she wouldn’t do him that. She shivered at the recollection of coming to the Lux after her poisoning… searching for Lucifer in the empty apartment… no, she wouldn’t do that to him, never.

Besides, she loved him and wanted to reconcile, as soon as possible.

And, of course, the tears were flowing down her cheeks.

Okay, she was sad. Very sad, because she missed him and he wasn’t there… And what if he went to Vegas again? No, she was done with thinking about Vegas. It was in the past and she decided to hope for the best.

For a long while, she stared at the TV, skimming through the programs, but nothing caught her attention. Then she played with her phone, and more precisely, considered the idea of calling Lucifer. After all, they were both grown-ups. He may have wanted to play hide and seek, but she was… more mature.

Was she really? Or did she overreact again? Chloe recalled how she demonstratively retreated to the guest room, slamming the door behind her… nope, that wasn’t very mature of her. But she had been so angry…

She almost called Lucifer to apologize him for her behaviour, but she remembered that he was one in the wrong. She couldn’t deter, because he would never understand, that he did something… unacceptable.

Driven by the lucky idea, Chloe opened her laptop and started to search through the internet shops, choosing the clothes for Trixie for the new school year. She rarely had time to plan the wardrobe of her daughter and this was a perfect occasion. Besides, thinking about Trixie made her feel better. She wasn’t alone in the world. She still had her girl.

It would only be easier to choose the new clothes if she could check the condition of the old ones – which at the moment was impossible.

Chloe wondered whether Lucifer was at least decent enough to call the owner of her apartment and ask him to end this ridiculous show with alleged repairs. Hopefully, he did, if she knew him enough.

Oh, but did she knew him at all? Finally, the detective had to acknowledge the worst feeling gnawing her since yesterday: anxiety. It was a terrible thing, to start to fear Lucifer, especially now, when they were… a thing… a pair… okay, lovers. However, she had never assumed that he could hide from her something… so easily. Fine, his logic was sometimes a bit twisted and there was his usual weirdness, and his mysterious past and that family conflict…

Actually, this list was getting quite long.

Chloe closed her laptop without finalizing any purchase. For a moment she felt totally lost. Just to do something, before she broke down, she went in search for Dip and checked, whether he has enough water in his bowl.

“Are you lonely? It was better in the garden, wasn’t it? Why don’t make a nice long walk together, before your master returns?” she asked, nuzzling the animal’s neck. It passed through her mind, that Lucifer was a terrible dog owner. He brought the dog, true, but then didn’t care much for him. She always walked him out, while he never bothered. Generally, she was the one who spent time with the animal. And yet, there was an obvious bond between Lucifer and the dog, almost as if they knew each other very well.

Maybe they did. She thought, that the dog was brought from the shelter, but perhaps Lucifer only suggested her something like this, to fuel the most likely assumptions, as usual. Now she knew, how his ‘not lies’ worked. Though, why would he lie about the dog? Maybe he brought him from some other… house, some other part of his life, he wanted to keep secret from her?

“Did he really took you from a shelter?” she asked and the dog jumped at the bed, sitting by her side. “Oh, you would tell me if you could, right?” gushed Chloe, patting the thick fur on animal’s back. “At least you are sincere with me.”

The dog nuzzled her cheek, shifting closer.

The signal of the elevator broke the silence and Chloe jumped on her seat. For a moment, she struggled with the urge to close the door to her room. He let her wait so long, why should she hurry to speak with him now?

But then she caught a glimpse of Lucifer passing the room and realized that something wasn’t right. The anxiety won over the rancour and without thinking she followed him to the bathroom. And yes, he was battered and dishevelled as if after some solid brawl. Chloe felt the wave of guilt – was he in troubles, while she was sulking over his absence?

All her resentment was forgotten, when she saw him washing the blood from his face.

“What happened?” she asked anxiously, reaching for a towel to help him.

“Nothing. I should have stayed longer downstairs, now it seems broken again,” he muttered senselessly and Chloe though that he might have a concussion.

“Sit,” she ordered pushing him toward the stool and examined his face in search for bruises. “Your nose is not broken. Not even swollen,” she frowned, because there was so much blood on him, that she expected some serious injury.

“So, it must have healed in the meantime.”

“What? Were you hit in the back of your head?” Chloe ran her fingers over his skull searching for a lump. Having found none, she looked in his eyes, but his pupils were the same size.

“I am fine, really. Chloe…” he said hesitantly and suddenly Chloe realized that she was standing very close to him, touching his face, and he was looking at her with an absolutely disarming plea in his eyes.

“Detective, I…” his fingers brushed her waist so very, very gently, as if he wanted to touch her, but didn’t dare and this shadow of touch was even more disarming than his sight. Chloe thought she should move away, but she didn’t. It was so nice, to be close.

“What happened?” she said instead, pretending to ignore his pleading expression

Of course, Lucifer noticed the short moment of inner struggle. A corner of his mouth raised at the beginning of a smile and his touch on her waist became more secure.

“Mazikeen. I told her about our disagreement and forgot that she shares an apartment with you,” he chuckled with self-irony and Chloe couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Did she try to break your nose? I thought about doing something like this myself, but I guess that Maze did it better,” she admitted. Something cold and sad in her heart was receding with that laughter.

Lucifer must have felt the same because suddenly he wrapped his arms around her pulling her closer into the hug that would make Ella Lopez proud.

“At least you are talking with me again,” he muttered, burying the face in her shirt.

Chloe let him hug her, and even put her arms about his neck to pull him even closer. “I would have been talking with you earlier today, have you been there, silly,” she replied quietly, resting her cheek on the crown of his head. They stood so close, that she couldn’t tell her heartbeat from his, as if there was one, instead of two and it felt so – so special…

“I am sorry,” said Lucifer and she couldn’t imagine more sincere apologies. He pulled back a little, to look at her. “I am just not used to having partners. I was always playing the game alone, with no more than pawns around me. I will try to change if you allow me and give me some time.”

 _As if I had a choice,_ thought Chloe helplessly. He spoke to her, as if she could say ‘no’ and walk away – whereas the truth was, she simply loved him too much to even think about it.

“You should lie down. I don’t know how, but it seems you lost some blood,” she said before the emotions overwhelmed her.

“I am fine,” replied Lucifer, but meekly followed her to the living room. When she sat on the sofa, he lay near her, using the occasion to place his head on her knees.

“Are we good?” he at least enough decency to ask quite shyly, looking up at her. “That’s not at all, how imagined our conversation, but…”

“Me neither. What you did was wrong,” Chloe tried to say fiercely, but the didactical effect must have been weakened, as she simultaneously caressingly ran the fingers through his hair. She simply couldn’t resist. “But yes, it seems we are good. It’s just… I am not that angry anymore,” she admitted with a sigh.

The way Lucifer looked at her rewarded the easy surrender. “That’s what you are doing better than Mazikeen,” he said and explaining with a soft smile: “Forgiving.”

“What have you been doing all that time?”

“Today?” Lucifer seemed to consider the answer. “Picking the crumbs. Trying to find out… what was amiss. What should I do to… mend things between us.” The way he said it made it sound like something very complicated.

“And what crumbs have you found?” she asked only, not hiding a smile at this particular metaphor.

“Well, to start with,” Lucifer began slowly, “that the past is in the past, and no one can change it… so the only thing I can do is to…” his voice trailed off for a moment until he finished almost violently: “I cannot change the past. It happened.” He looked at Chloe, as though awaiting some reaction, so she nodded and reached for his hand, clasping their palms together.

“Then I would very much like that there would be just you and me and you, Detective,” he said with more ease, pulling her hand to his mouth to kiss it.

“I am not sure I understand,” replied Chloe with a frown. “There are always the others, that needed to be taken into account, but…”

“Never mind,” Lucifer interrupted her with a smile. “Leave it to me. I will try to ensure that there would be no… external interferences. And the last part is that… that trust is important,” he finished surprisingly quickly, avoiding her sight – but at least that was something Chloe understood.

“Yes, it is,” she nodded, relieved, that he finally acknowledged it. Somehow, that reminded her about their interrupted conversation from the last evening. “Yesterday, you wanted to tell me something?...”

Lucifer shook his head. “Let’s leave it for now. I need to order a few things first myself.”

Chloe accepted this vague answer, feeling lulled by their closeness, and the warmth between them and relief, that they are good again… Lucifer was still keeping her hand, caressing her lazily, and his head was still on her knees – and Chloe would very much like to forget all the difficult subjects, giving into pleasure…

She struggled to concentrate, before surrendering to her feelings.

“Fine, but I don’t want to be lied to,” she said as decisively, as she could. “I accept your apologies, but this needs to be the last time.” Somehow, Chloe didn’t like the concertation that appeared on his face, when he considered her words. She asked about something very simple, did she not?

“Yes,” he replied slowly, “but for the sake of our future undisturbed happiness, would you be kind to remember I told you a few times that I am the devil?”

That again. And here she thought they discussed it yesterday. Anyway, whether this was his delusions, of metaphors, or some pose of his… none of this should be a problem. Chloe already promised herself to humour him in this regard. “I am certainly not going to forget it,” she assured him.

“And you are the miracle. Like, sent from Heaven,” he added with charming seriousness.

Oh, well. Would could resist it? With a smile, Chloe leant over Lucifer, to kiss his forehead. Then the eyes. And the cheek.

“This time, flattery might get you somewhere,” she whispered, before kissing him in the mouth.

* * *

Lucifer felt almost guilty when he suggested that the detective could spend the evening having a ‘girls’ night’ with Mazikeen and the doctor. He indicated, that the last two needed to reconcile and Chloe could act as an intermediary. The detective agreed gladly, both eager to help her friends and starved for social contacts. Personally, Lucifer didn’t expect her to succeed, doubting not Chloe’s negotiating skills, but Maze’s amicability.

However, he needed to be alone in the apartment this evening.

They spent the afternoon on sweet nothings, apologizing and accepting apologies. When the evening came, the detective dressed up in something colourful and almost funny, something that Lucifer would never appreciate on the shop hanger, but on her, it looked more than perfect. Part of him wanted to stop her from leaving and make a better acquaintance with that dress of hers, but the other part whispered, that his resolve was made and he needed to follow it.

The detective let her hair down, applied a make up a bit stronger than usual and finally, sending him the last smile, disappeared in the elevator, to enjoy her evening. The devil for a moment looked behind her, recalling the gleam in her eyes and catching the whiffs of her perfume in the air.

She was especially beautiful when she was happy. And if he wanted to… to be able to keep her, and to keep her happy, he needed to…

He needed to solve certain issues.

The smile disappeared from the devil’s face, when he went to the balcony and made himself comfortable, a glass of amber liquid in one hand and slowly charring cigarette in another. The sun was descending to the horizon, covering the world in the reflexes of the soft, warm light.

The light brought memories. The pictures from the past – from the very, very distant past – crowded in his mind, but he pushed them away because the past was in the past and for the first time in his existence he didn’t want to lose the future because of the past.

He felt how the currents of destiny trembled around him, and for a moment he let himself feel them. All the options were still possible. All the endings, for better and for worse, were still within his reach. Once again, he considered, whether really what he wanted most was her: Chloe Decker, the detective, one single human among the uncountable crowds that were and would be walking over the surface of the air. Was he sure, that he wanted her more than everything that all the three planes of existence could offer the devil?

At this moment, he understood, that she was more than a woman. She was a miracle, a chance, forgiveness, a new beginning…

 _The phoenix_ , he thought with a smile, recalling the Chinese brooch. _His phoenix. Perhaps she would rebuild also his life from the ashes he turned it into._

Yes, he wanted her. And all that she could give him.

Once he decided that, he stopped thinking only waited – waited patiently, until the sky over Los Angeles lit the most splendid sunset, indicating that his interlocutor was ready to listen.

Initially, Lucifer intended to remain seated during this conversation, relaxed and mocking. Then, however, he thought better. He put aside the glass, stub out the cigarette and even stood up, giving up the appearances of nonchalance.

He neared to the railing and looked into the sky.

“I do hope you are listening to me, Father. I’d like to bargain.”


	21. The matter of love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, sorry for a long wait. I had too good time durign Christmas, finally visiting some friends. Now, however, I am back into the lockdown reality… and I am back to writing:)

_It feels strange, to simply talk to you. Some part of me would still prefer to yell and curse. Yes, curse at you, Father, just like I used to, so many times before, through all these ages._

_I am still angry, I guess._

_And yet, this time I’d like to talk._

_About Chloe. Your Miracle._

_Her… existence is the result of your direct intervention. Probably, you equipped her with some… uncommon gifts, that I assume, were projected to… impress me. Influence me._

_Or maybe not. Maybe she was planned as a part of some other scheme of yours. After all, you have so many of them._

_Anyway, now she is here, with me and I want to keep her._

* * *

The detective returned from her ‘girls’ night’ much earlier than Lucifer expected when he was still sitting in the balcony, numbly looking at the starry sky. Her steps woke him up from his musings and he quickly came back inside, taking in her appearance: discouraged and sober.

“Now that’s not how the party girl should look like. I expected to search for you at dawn, following the trail of demolished clubs,” he quipped. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” the detective shrugged her shoulders. “Exactly nothing. Linda ordered some juice and Maze felt offended, that she didn’t want to share booze with her. It withered the mood that was not very good to start with. I tried to reason with Maze, but…” She waved her hand not ending the sentence and took off her jacket, carefully unfastening the phoenix brooch from its lapel.

“Right. Dear Mazikeen sometimes tends to be… oversensitive. Trust issues and all,” agreed Lucifer. If Mazikeen went into the Lilim mode, anything could trigger her offence. “I am sorry, the evening in the company of the demon and the psychologist on a warpath must have been an exhausting experience. What can we do to save your evening? The night is still young and you look ravishing. Why don’t we go to the Lux and show off that lovely dress of yours?”

“No,” the detective shook her head. “We need to get up early tomorrow. Dan called in the meantime and if we want to visit Tejada in the hospital, it must be done tomorrow morning. Later, he might be transferred.”

She slipped her heels off, sighing with relief and walked to the couch. “As you can see, I would return early even if Maze and Linda agreed to bury the hatchet. It may be the one and last occasion to speak with Tejada undisturbed. Dan already arranged everything.”

“Lovely,” agreed Lucifer. Good, that he didn’t try to deal with the gangster today. Tomorrow, they would do it together. “So, no clubbing till dawn. Even better. So many possibilities to save the evening here,” he tried to speak with his usual seductive levity, but his sight kept running toward the things left by the detective around the room – her heels just near the entrance, the jacket on the barstool, the brooch and bag on the desk… like the little everyday jewels leading to her presence, to her sitting so casually on the couch… his heart cringed with the thought, how meaningful it was, how deep went the mark she left of his territory. Without her, his Lux, his apartment, the whole Earth would be empty, no less than the timeless passages of Hell.

The detective unaware of his reflections leant toward him with a smile. “And what have you been doing while I was away?”

“Thinking about the future.”

“How serious it sounded. What’s the conclusion?”

“I am not sure. I am still waiting for answers,” he replied somehow sadly, but the detective was too tired to catch that particular tone in his voice. She complained only, stretching with a yawn:

“Will I ever understand what you mean, by all these riddles?”

“I am afraid so, yes,” Lucifer looked at her with tenderness. “But so far, carpe diem. Or rather, noctem.” He tried to smirk seductively, reaching for her, but all he could think was that he would do anything within his powers, to keep her… no, worse - he did everything within his powers to keep her, he said his words and issued his plea… but the result was, as usual, unknown.

Somehow, instead of purposeful caress, his touch turned into a needy embrace, when he wrapped arms around Chloe and clasped her with a strength eliciting a surprised and slightly painful gasp from her.

* * *

_I intended to start with something polite. And yes, there is something I want to thank you for. Malcolm. The first thing in centuries I am grateful for – the occasion to personally smash his foul face. When we made the deal in that warehouse, I asked you for Chloe’s life, not for mine. You could have struck the dastard with lighting, or send one of my obedient siblings… so many possibilities. And you let me deal with him. I do appreciate it. It was… a nice gesture._

_Oh, once we are discussing the past events - you should be happy I managed to deal with mother. She really holds the grudge… yes, she does. If she got to the Silver City, there would be… ah, so much mess._

_And I could have taken that Sword, you know. The mess would be even greater._

_I just wanted to remind you that, at least recently, I was… reliable._

_The worlds would look different if I wasn’t._

* * *

When they got to the hospital, Chloe was surprised to see how Dan arranged their meeting with Tejada. She expected to take part in some kind of interrogation. Instead, she saw that Dan was guarding the door of the gangster’s room in the company of some uniformed officer. The other man, seeing them approach, stated quite demonstratively: “I need to pee,” and left.

“Nice thinking,” praised Lucifer, sending Dan knowing smile, even if Chloe was less impressed.

“Couldn’t you make it… more official?”

“I could,” agreed Daniel, “but I preferred to be cautious. I didn’t report to Watts anything yet. I told Mitchells,” he pointed at the direction where the other officer disappeared, “that we are unofficially searching for the other gangsters that took part in your kidnapping, that’s all. The guys like you, Chloe, he agreed to help.”

Chloe’s brain short-circuited around the words ‘the guys like you’, because till that moment she would never expect to be the on the receiving end of her colleagues’ solidarity. Lucifer, however, accepted the favour as something due.

“Lovely. Let’s finally meet the scoundrel,” he stated entering the room and Chloe had no choice but to follow him.

In the last moment, however, she wondered whether she really was up to it – to meet the man that hated her so much and showed her that with such open cruelty. She got over the trauma, true. Her mind got distracted with the new emotions developing between her and Lucifer and she almost forgot about the gloomy hours in the dark cellar. And yet now, for one small second, it all came back. The detective hesitated at the threshold, rubbing her wrists when she looked at the man lying in the hospital bed… but Joel Tejada appeared absolutely helpless now, broken and weak, wrapped in bandages and attached to some medical machinery... Chloe’s anxiety faded, giving place to something close to pity.

“Wakey, wakey, you little rascal. I want to have a word with you,” purred Lucifer nearing to the bed with his predatory grace on full display and Chloe realized that – while she was torn between fear and compassion – her partner was literally vibrating with dark, vindictive energy.

Right. He was protective of her even when they weren’t sleeping together. And now… now they were here, alone, with the monitoring most probably switched off…

“Lucifer, stop,” she said decisively. “Slowly. Don’t scare him.”

Lucifer looked at her with an incredulous, charmingly confused expression, but in the same moment, Tejada stirred and opened his eyes, drawing their attention. He eyed them groggily, recognition, quickly followed by anger, flashing in his sight, when he focused on Chloe.

“You… That’s you, you fucking bitch,” he mumbled so incoherently, that it didn’t even sound like a threat. “My hand…” he raised an arm and Chloe gasped, noticing it was much too short and wrapped in bandages.

“One disrespectful word more and this will be your most complete limb,” observed Lucifer, so casually that the detective found it a bit chilling.

“We came for information,” said quickly Chloe, before the gangster had time to snap back, and provoke Lucifer to further… reaction. “Concerning your brother, Oscar. The one, who is supposed to be dead.”

Struck and sunk. The emotions that flashed on the gangster’s face could serve as proof at court. If there was a shadow of doubt, whether Chaney was telling the truth, the expression of shock and anger on Tejada’s face effectively dissipated them, even if his whole reply was “Fuck off,” muttered through clenched teeth.

“We know he is alive,” insisted the detective. “You can… improve your situation, if you cooperate.”

“Fuck off and talk with my lawyer,” developed Tejada, looking at the ceiling.

“I have a big family too,” observed Lucifer in a deceptively friendly tone. He made a step forward, while Chloe shifted back, because – as in the good old days of their professional cooperation – mentioning the lawyer indicated that it was a time for a bit of Lucifer’s magic. “A lot of siblings. Really, plenty of them. And most are terrible pain in the ass. Even my twin, he is a special pest. Too alike me, you know. But what about you, Joel?” Lucifer abruptly changed the subject, looking the gangster straight in the eyes. “What do you want, the most in the world? To be a good cousin? To take care of your older brother? Somehow, I doubt it.”

He leant over the hospital bed, his sight never leaving Tejada’s face. The gangster, sweated and paled, looked as if he wanted to turn his sight, but couldn’t. Chloe once again marvelled at Lucifer’s special talent, because, whether it was hypnosis or some gift of persuasion, he didn’t even say anything that special, and people cracked like nutshells, revealing his most hidden secrets...

“Speak,” urged Lucifer, his voice lowering almost to whisper. “What hides in that little dirty brain of yours? What ugly dreams do you nurse? You helped your brother stage his death and escape prison, why?...”

Tejada’s mouth opened and closed a few times, without making any sound, until suddenly he replied, surprisingly clearly: “I want to lead.”

“Yess?…” encouraged him Lucifer, crooking his head, which made him look almost… alien for a moment.

“I should be the leader… after Oscar was arrested,” continued Tejada, dazed and lost in some inner world of his. “And he named someone else. They don’t let me… act. I need more independence. Like with her,” he pointed at Chloe with a careless move of his head. “I wanted to have some fun with her and they didn’t let me. Get rid of her, they said, just like that. And I have waited for that so long…”

Acting on instinct, Chloe put her hand on Lucifer’ shoulder, trying to squeeze it calmingly, though his muscles were so tense, that it was like squeezing the stone.

“The address,” she recalled gently.

“Maybe he would choose you now,” continued Lucifer, his voice shivering slightly with anger concealed under the smooth, deceptive friendliness. “Your brother, Joel. The big boss. Maybe he would name you a leader now, if he would be arrested for the second time? Didn’t you serve him well, Joel?”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” nodded the gangster, something close to the smile appearing on his face. As far as Chloe could say, he was losing the last ties with reality.

“Just tell us, where he is, and you will see… whether your dreams come true. Come on. You can have it, Joel. Do it. Tell us the address. Do something for yourself.”

 _He won’t buy it,_ thought Chloe. _Nobody would._

But then, Tejada, just like that, recited the address, adding casually: “An abandoned, unfinished building. No commodities. Wasn’t easy, to make the bastard comfortable there.”

“What a touching example of brotherly love,” muttered Lucifer, but Chloe wasted no time in checking the place on her phone.

“The address matches,” she said quickly. “At least, there is an unfinished building in this place. Let’s go.” She pulled Lucifer’s hand and he obeyed, with a farewell wink to the gangster.

“Till later, Joel. Thank you for your assistance.”

In a threshold, Chloe turned back for a moment, just to see the gangster gaping, like the fish draw out of water, disbelief and shock written all over his face.

* * *

_I need to make one thing clear: I haven’t changed my mind. About… things. I want to be in control of myself. I want to make my own decisions and go where I want, and I do not care about your bloody orders and I am not going to kneel just because you tell me to._

_And humanity is not as successful project as you thought it to be, but you probably already noticed that. It takes a lot of effort, to stop humans from destroying themselves, over and over again, does it not? And it is not my doing. It is in their nature. Curious, is it not?_

_Though, they are still better than I expected. I admit that._

_Fine. I do not want to talk about the past. I do not think I could ever agree with you about the past._

_And I am still me, you know._

* * *

As soon as they left the hospital room, the detective and Daniel Espinosa engaged in a hectic conversation revolving around dealing with the information they obtained from Tejada. Lucifer, however, kept himself aside, too occupied with trying to hold his anger on a leash.

Very righteous anger.

Joel Tejada was an evil man. Cruel, cynical, greedy, unscrupulous. Deprived of any trace of morality and any redeeming qualities. He did deserve to be punished, for this alone. Lucifer trembled with frustration when he was forced to… converse with such abomination, instead of simply dealing with him as he deserved,

But, apart from the above, Joel Tejada hurt Chloe. He enjoyed seeing her suffer and, without a trace of regret or hesitation, he was going to kill her.

Joel Tejada hurt someone dear to the devil.

That was not something the devil could simply shrug off.

Lucifer took a shaky breath and then slowly released the air, trying to calm down and focus on the conversation, but it wasn’t helping.

“Lucifer? Everything’s fine?” Chloe’s question woke him up and, with surprise, Lucifer noticed, that they are sitting the hospital coffee bar. “You seem distracted and there is something we need to discuss.”

Lucifer made his resolve in a fraction of second. “Yes. Just a moment,” he said only, standing up. The detective followed him with an anxious glance, but calmed down when he walked away in the direction of the bathrooms.

He didn’t want to cheat the detective or hide something from her. The devil didn’t need to hide. Only that… it was easier. And he was so used to staying in shadows, that now his body acted almost on its own accord: his legs carrying him into the empty corridor, careful glance around, the wings spreading out, shifting the space around him… and he was in the Tejada’s room again, looking at the gangster trapped in the hospital bed.

Joel Tejada was crying.

He didn’t notice anything unusual in Lucifer’s sudden appearing, only sobbed looking at him hatefully.

“You drugged me, right?” he whispered. “I would never… never… I wouldn’t tell anything, do you understand? I was taking care of Oscar, I was helping him, protecting him, I would never, never…”

“Silence,” hissed Lucifer, coming closer and the human silenced abruptly, though he couldn’t repress quiet gasp when the devil pointed at the stump of his hand: “Mazikeen kept you alive for me. This was only a first… reprimand.”

“What?…”

“You are a sinner, Joel,” Lucifer said clearly, tasting each world. It was one of these occasions when it felt good to be a devil and Lucifer was going to enjoy the fear of the mortal laying in front of him to the last drop. “For this, you would end in Hell anyway. However, you also had a misfortune of crossing paths with me.”

Tejada blinked a few times, shaking his head. Lucifer with certain amusement thought that the human must be struggling to remain within safe limits of his worldview, to ignore the dawning knowledge, how doomed he was.

“Hey, I don’t even know you. You are the cop, or…” said weakly Tejada, confirming Lucifer’s guess.

“No, I am not,” Lucifer replied slowly, smirking. “I have my own dealings with you, Joel. You see, you raised your hand on someone I care for. You kidnapped her, while she was staying in my home. I searched for her for hours, not being sure, whether I will ever see her again. I was… worried and disturbed. Because of you. All because of you.”

“You are that club owner? But…”

“But you also hurt her,” interrupted him Lucifer. “You hurt the human I care about the most in my whole life,” he stressed, leaning over Tejada, letting his eyes flash with the deepest, darkest crimson of Hellfire. The gangster choke with a soundless gasp petrified, unable to look away. “For this…” started Lucifer and paused for a moment, to increase the effect, but also because it was fun to play with that disgusting man, “Oh, don’t worry. I am not going to shorten your earthly existence. You will live your full time and pay what you are due, to human justice. And perhaps also to your family, you have just betrayed. And I…” the devil paused again leaning even closer, “To punish you, for what you have done, I am now going to show you precisely, what awaits you when you got down there. To Hell.”

He let the Hellfire pull the soul of the mortal, dragging him through the pictures of the Below: of suffering and endless despair, without hope, without relief… He forced him to watch, and feel, over and over again, until the man in the hospital bed started to scream.

“Remember that, Joel,” muttered the devil, leaving the room. “And enjoy the rest of your life.”

* * *

_So, more to the point._

_Chloe._

_I just wonder whether you are… satisfied with the turn of events. Did you expect it to happen? Did it go as you planned? Do you think it… proves something?_

_Hardly._

_Yes, she is fair and good and strong, and I like it about her._

_It is not that I have drowned in darkness. Yes,_ _I still… enjoy the light. Not a secret, really, it is enough to check the name of my club._

_I am still me, but I appreciate her, just as she is._

_But there is a problem of your part in all this. You created her, you made her special, and I don’t know why and the doubts and mistrust spoil the things between us, because how could I trust in the gift of yours?… In your Miracle?_

_No, that was a wrong thing to say. She is not yours. She is her own and I want her to be mine. And I don’t want to… care for the fact that she is a Miracle. I don’t want that to matter._

* * *

Lucifer intended to join Chloe and Dan in the coffee bar, but the detective was already alone and quite nervous.

“Everything’s fine, Detective?” he asked quite unnecessarily. After all, she was literally biting her nails.

“No. No, it is not,” she replied, violently shaking her head. “Dan doesn’t trust Watts. He doesn’t want to tell him about Oscar Tejada. He wants to go higher. I don’t know, perhaps he is right.”

“Ah,” Lucifer for a moment missed the importance of the message, admiring how the strands of her hair escaped her ponytail, framing her face in a golden halo. She was… like a jewel. All of her. He did well with Joel. The miscreant deserved the worst, for hurting her.

“Lucifer, timing is crucial!” exclaimed Chloe, irritated with his lack of engagement. “Each hour counts. How long it would take Oscar Tejada to disappear again? If his brother warns him? You…. hypnotized that address from him, but I am sure that he would soon come to his senses and then his first step would be to pass a message with a warning. I am not that naive to believe, that he has no contacts with the outer world, even under arrest. He easily will manage to sneak the information, this way or another. ”

“I do not think that…” started Lucifer, intending to inform the detective, that Joel Tejada at the moment was no more than a sobbing mess of fear and regrets, definitely not in a condition to warn anyone, not even his brother.

However, before the words left his mouth, he hesitated and stopped. Theoretically, he could tell the detective about it. Not that he was ashamed of what he did. On the contrary, he felt very satisfied. Though, the detective would certainly be... displeased. She would nag and point out some meaningless objections, they would quarrel, and there would be so much unnecessary commotion…

She would, perhaps, be disappointed.

So, on the second thought, the devil chose not to say anything.

Much later, he thought that all the troubles began exactly at this moment. With that little lie, that actually wasn’t even a lie, only an omission. After all, most of the troubles in his relationship with the detective started with small, innocent omissions.

However, this reflection was to come later. At the moment, the horizon was free from any potential danger and the detective looked at him expectantly, practically vibrating with the need to do something.

“We cannot lose time, Lucifer,” she stressed.

“How long it would take Dan to organize this… special intervention to bring in the big Tejada?”

“A day at least. Lucifer, that’s too long,” repeated the detective, then bit his lips and looked at him in that very special way indicating she has something controversial in mind. “Why don’t we go there now? Just you and me?”

“After Oscar?”

“Yes. Look, it is only one, elderly man. He will be armed, but we would surprise him. We would go there, secure him and then call LAPD. Even if Watts is… dirty, he wouldn’t be able to cover that.”

The detective spoke with excitement indicating that she was, deep in her heart, a bit of rule-breaker. She kept troubling her lower lip and her eyes shone when she looked at him so hopefully… And if the detective chose to be the reckless one, who was the devil to refuse her? Still riding the high of delivering the most satisfying punishment, melting under her pleading gaze, he sighed only with an approving smile:

“Ah, Detective. Your wish, my command… Let’s go get the villain.”

* * *

_I’d like to get some answers._

_Why did you put her on my path? Amenadiel says you wanted me to be happy. I find it hard to believe._

_Was she to be my doom? The way to manipulate me and bend to your will? I thought so, at the beginning. Now it seems… to simple… for all that complex… situation I am experiencing._

_Or do you plan to take her from me? It is your way to teach me a lesson? To torment me with longing and loss?... I managed to save her last time, but how can I know what would happen tomorrow? Each day feels like walking on the thin ice, with someone so… dear being so fragile._

_I know, that’s how your humans live. They do not know, whether the next day won’t be their last. Or the next hour. How do they still dare to… love and hope… is beyond me._

_I’d like to hope too. I’d like to believe, that Amenadiel is right. And yet, the faith is not enough._

_I need to know._

* * *

Lucifer’s exquisite mood dispersed only when he and the detective parked in the vicinity of the address Joel Tejada gave them. They saw it immediately: a big office building, almost finished but abandoned. The walls of bare concrete, the windows lacking glasses… and from one side there were still the remainings of the scaffolding. Lucifer stopped in front of the gate, distracted by an unidentified, unpleasant feeling gathering somewhere on the borders of his consciousness.

“Looks gloomy, huh?” observed the detective. „I wonder why they chose this place. Nothing better for the boss?”

“Chaney said that it was the last hiding,” observed Lucifer. „Perhaps they run out of more comfortable ones.”

“Tejada family must own at least part of that place. Anyway, let’s go,” concluded the detective and decisively walked toward the building. It was fenced and the gate was closed, but under Lucifer’s touch the lock gave in.

As soon as they crossed the gate, Lucifer’s uneasiness clarified in unmistakable, strong premonition of danger.

“Detective, I have bad feelings about it,” he muttered, looking around.

“Have you just Han Solo-ed me?” chuckled the detective. She passed by a few piles of construction debris, nearing to the building. It was lacking doors and entrance to the wide corridor was open. „See? It should be secured,” she whispered triumphantly. „Someone has been here.”

Lucifer nodded with distraction, as the warning bells in his head were getting louder and louder.

“Stay here, Detective,” he said suddenly. “I will go alone.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No way,” hissed the detective violently. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I need you to stay here,” Lucifer said slowly, stressing each word. Bloody Hell, his secrets were piling up against him. If Chloe knew, he was a devil… he could tell her, that his hunches were always right and needed to be treated seriously.

“If anyone should stay here, it is you,” retorted the detective raising her chin. “I am a cop, after all. Besides, each second when we are standing here and quarrelling increases the risk that someone hears us, so… you can do, what you want, but I am going,” she added and retrieved her gun, cautiously walking toward the stairs.

The warning bells in Lucifer’s head went crazy.

“Detective, stop!” he called behind her, barely caring to lower his voice. “We had a deal, remember? You gave me a blank check. I am calling it in now. I want you to stay here.”

Chloe slowly turned to him, her eyes wide and filled with disbelief, that slowly morphed into anger with the realization that he was serious. “What? No. Lucifer, no. Chose something else. You cannot… That’s not fair.”

“It never is,” smirked Lucifer and quickly passed by her, climbing the stairs, before she managed to protest further.

Doubtlessly, the detective would be furious for a long time, but as for now, he was delighted, that he got it all his own way. The danger had been real, he felt it clearly, but somehow he managed to cheat the destiny once more.

He would apologize to her, as soon as he would get that wretched mobster.

Gradually, the devil concentrated on the task. He walked slowly, looking around with caution, putting his senses to alert, in hope to notice some movement or hear some suspicious sound. However, all he heard were his steps on the bare concrete. The building appeared abandoned and empty. There was an unpleasant smell in the air and Lucifer wondered, whether they really got the right address. Had he been on Tejada’s place, he certainly would prefer to get arrested again, then stay in a place like this.

Lucifer crossed one level after another and with growing suspicion, that the building was indeed empty. His thoughts run to Chloe, waiting downstairs. If they would not find Tejada, she would be very disappointed. The devil cringed, thinking about the unavoidable conversation they would have later.

Of course, they had a deal. Still, in some way, he failed her trust.

Due to his… premonition, he panicked. As it turned out, quite unnecessarily.

It was all because of his yesterday’s…. prayer. Conversation. No, it was rather a bloody monologue, as usual. He got quite emotional, at the end. Total mess. He demanded answers from Father, right. Did he really expect to get them, just like that? It was because of Amenadiel and his bloody blind trust. It messed in his head and made him hope that perhaps…. That perhaps Father for once would stop toying with him.

Maybe it was better that way. Maybe he wouldn’t like the answers if he got them.

Considering all this, the devil reached the last level of the building, not coming across anything suspicious. To be thorough, he checked even the roof, though he highly doubted to find anyone there.

Of course, the roof was empty with nothing but the clear sky above. Enjoying the fresh air and sunrays, the devil walked to the edge, casting a glance at the remaining of the scaffolding - and then he froze.

The detective didn’t keep her end of the deal with the devil. She didn’t stay on the ground level, only started to climb up the scaffolding.

* * *

_I want her in my life. I am ready for some kind of agreement. I am trying to speak to you right now.. and I am ready to listen. For her. But I need to know that you are not going to use her against me. Or take her from me, just after giving me a taste of… of all these…_

_Her lifetime is short enough, is it not? A_ _blink compared to mine._

_Yes, I need a clear statement of your intentions. I need to know, whether she is a trap or an invitation._

_I can discuss… the rest. The strings, that are doubtlessly attached._

_If she is an invitation, I accept it._

_If she is a trap, I… I am not resigning from her._

_As the matter of fact, I do not know what I would do, if she turned up to be a tool of your revenge._

_I just hope she is not._

* * *

Chloe took a few deep breaths, struggling to calm down, when Lucifer ran upstairs, leaving her alone. She forgot how…. irresponsible, how unreliable he could be sometimes.

And what was she going to do right now?

A honourable way would be to wait here, just as he asked. However, it was not a game. Not a wager. It was a serious matter, an armed gangster was hiding somewhere in this building and it was not a right moment for humouring the tantrums of her overprotective partner.

Of course, she was not going to run behind Lucifer. That would be the most stupid thing to do, and she wouldn’t catch up with him anyway. So, she slowly looked around, thinking.

To start with, she needed to make sure, whether there was no other exit from the building… and indeed it seemed there was only one staircase.

 _Strange._ Chloe frowned, taking in the size of the building. It was hard to see, how the building was originally planned, but there should be the second staircase. Or, at least some kind of the emergency stairs. Perhaps from the side of the scaffolding?

Chloe looked in this direction, frowning again. The scaffolding should be dismantled, as soon as the works at the construction site were abandoned. It posed safety risks… Besides, such things were expensive. No building company would leave in like that… unless they were asked to do it.

Curious, the detective walked onto the first floor, looking around. A satisfied smile appeared on her face, when she realized, that someone tampered with the communication routes of the building: a part of it was closed, inaccessible from the only staircase. It seemed, that the only way to get there was through the scaffolding.

 _I got you!_ smirked Chloe. She tucked away her gun and started to climb.

She may have just solved the riddle of the very clever hiding place. From the outside, it looked like the abandoned building, empty and discouraging. Even if someone entered it accidentally, he would only walk up the empty staircase, just like Lucifer did, without noticing anything. Who would climb the old scaffolding?

 _Some kids, perhaps,_ thought Chloe with a shrug. She kept climbing, looking around in search of a door, or some kind of entrance. After closer examination, the scaffolding was surprisingly well maintained, so she was able to reach quickly the higher levels. Once she was perhaps in the middle of the building height, she stopped for a second to admire the view.

And then, she thought better. _The kids._ That was exactly the kind of place where the rebelled teens would like to sneak out. They would climb up to enjoy the moment of freedom, stare at the city under their feet. Their presence would leave marks: graffiti on the walls, broken glass and butts on the floor.

There was nothing like this here. No naughty inscriptions. No litters. Someone must have chased all the unwanted guests away.

It meant, that the place was well guarded. Probably, by someone, who already saw her.

 _I am too exposed. Perhaps I should have been more careful,_ thought the detective. However, she came up to this realization too late to do anything, because in the next second she was faced with a gun, aimed straight at her.

Before she managed to get scared, the gun fired.

* * *

_All in all, it turns out, I can only hope._

_I intended to offer you some kind of a deal. My… services. My return to Hell, in exchange for time with her. But now, I cannot… I cannot think of the moment when she would leave me. I do not want the future without her. I cannot imagine I would hold to such a deal._

_So, no deal it is, I am afraid. I have nothing to offer._

_Bloody Hell, it feels awful. To stay like this, with my hands empty and nothing to bargain._

* * *

For a moment, Lucifer observed the detective deftly climbing the scaffolding, torn between irritation at her disobedience and amusement at how easily she ignored him.

 _My, my, Detective,_ he sighed. _No qualms about ignoring the deal with the devil? What a handful you are…_

However, the moment of his amusement was short-lived as he saw that the building wasn’t deserted after all. A man, whether it was Tejada, or not, exited onto the scaffold above the detective. The detective couldn’t see him, but Lucifer did. Despite the many levels separating them, he saw clearly, that the man also was keeping the gun and using the advantage of the higher ground, calmly aimed at Chloe.

It was too late to do anything. He was too far.

For a second, the world stood still when the devil with despair realized, that destiny cheated him, after all, and everything he did, led to its conclusion in this one, final moment.

What if that how he was going to get his answer?

Knowing well, he would not be on time, Lucifer spread his wings and half-jumped, half-teleported himself down, just at the moment when the shot reverberated in the air.

* * *

_Aaaand the rest is silence._

_Why did I think you that you would answer me this time?_

_Just… do not play with me. With us. You do not like to speak, but you like signs. Give me some sign, that we can… hope and have faith in that... thing between us._

_Thing? Love._

_Yes, love._

_So. It seems I have no better option, but hope._

_Perhaps it is fitting. Perhaps that was what humanly love is about: to recede all the control and hope that everything would end well, after all._

* * *

Chloe came round slowly, gradually, as if she was emerging from the waves of some troubling dream. At first, she couldn’t understand it. Was she asleep? Unconscious? Her thoughts were so… unfocused. And there was so much noise around her… Then she noticed, that she was still on the scaffolding, but now the building was swarmed with the police. Someone – a paramedic – leant over her, asking questions. She knew it was to check the possible head injuries, so she tried to reply, but her confusion only grew.

“Ella!” she called, having spotted the scientist bustling around her with the evidence bags. “Lucifer?...”

“Over there,” the girl pointed the direction and Chloe slightly calmed down, having spotted the familiar silhouette of her partner, sitting aside.

“Girl, you pushed your luck today!” chatted Ella. “Going after the mob boss? Alone? On vacation? You do know that it could as well be you down there?” the girl made a wide gesture with her arm. Chloe automatically followed it with her sight, looking toward the ground – and gasped, seeing a prove, motionless body on the pavement.

“Tejada?...”

“Most probably,” Ella shrugged her shoulders. “Of course, this time the coroner would have to check it better. You know, even the mob boss can only die twice. Clever guy, huh? He had a nice little nest here. I saw it. No canalization, perhaps, but really cool security system.”

“I should have thought about it.” Chloe furrowed her eyebrows, desperately trying to remember, but her mind was still hazy. “Why is he dead?”

“Honestly? No idea. Ask mister silent and grumpy,” Ella shrugged her shoulders and waved toward Lucifer.

“He fell,” stated Lucifer in a flat voice.

“No kidding, Sherlock,” muttered Ella with slight frustration. Chloe eyed her partner more cautiously. He looked unharmed, but very… unhappy and battered, with defensively folded arms and his jacked wrapped tightly around him. Now she had a vague memory of Lucifer holding her… rather clutching her tightly… calling her?… She struggled with the fog in her brain to reconstruct the events in some logical sequence. The last picture she remembered, was the man taking aim at her. The barrel of the gun… the sound of the shot…

“I was climbing… and he surprised me. He had a gun and he… he shot, didn’t he? Oh, Lucifer, you heard it, right? You… You were worried? I am so sorry!” she called spontaneously. Poor Lucifer, he must have had such a scare!... “But he missed, okay? He missed. Nothing happened.”

Lucifer didn’t raise the head to meet her sight.

“Yeah, he must have missed,” chimed in Ella. “But where you out? It would make sense, if you had a vest and he hit you, but you didn’t, which was, by the way, quite stupid. So, no vest, no wound, no bruise.” Ella’s hand skimmed to the brooch fastened to Chloe’s jacket. “What is it from? Never mind. If it is not vibranium, it wouldn’t repulse the bullet. Perhaps you fainted because the shot went very close to you? It ricocheted, maybe? But there is no dent in the scaffolding, nowhere in view. How is your hearing? Some buzzing in your ears?...”

Chloe slowly shook her head. She felt fine. Very fine, actually, apart from this… haziness in her brain. Okay, maybe she remembered some kind of short-lived pain, but… now she was feeling perfectly well.

“The shot must have gone wide,” she replied with more confidence than she felt, because she did remember that man aiming at her, she remembered the angle and… “It went wide,” she repeated. “And I must have bumped my head somehow.”

“Okay, so perhaps you… like… tripped? Hit into something? Does it hurt, anywhere?” Ella quickly ran fingers over Chloe’s skull.

“Ella, please, “moaned Chloe, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Actually, I have no idea. Lucifer?...”

“Yes, Lucifer,” Ella rapidly turned to the consultant. “Have you seen anything? Per favor. A little help. Some theory. What happened?”

But Lucifer only ran the hand through his hair in a gesture Chloe never saw by him before and replied tightly, with a shaky sigh:

“A miracle.”

“Now, Dude. That is soo constructive,” huffed Ella, rolling her eyes.


	22. Outside the frame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, I just realized, that my last chapter ended with a reverse cliff-hanger. Usually, someone seems to die at the end of the chapter - and in the next one it turns out, that they are still alive. In my cliffhanger Chloe was alive... but it turned out that she was dead;)  
> So, enjoy :)

So early in the morning, the Lux was empty, except for Lucifer and his brother. Amenadiel was wearing a beige pyjama, which was weirdly contrasting with the marble floors and glass walls of the night club. For a moment, Lucifer was tempted to laugh him off, but this particular attire was a testimony of almost ridiculous hurry, in which his brother arrived. As soon as the devil called him, Amenadiel, concerned and awestricken, rushed to the Lux – and now he was here for him. In place of mockery, the devil felt something close to gratitude. After all, Amenadiel was the only being on the Earth able to understand at least partially what happened.

“Remind me to never again ask Father for straight answers. He is too much inclined to dramatics,” complained Lucifer pouring the drinks for them. He tried to speak with the usual nonchalance, but his hands were trembling and his voice didn’t come out as light as he would like to.

Giving up pretences, the devil leant heavily over the counter, finally letting the fatigue and stress take over his body.

“She died,” he said quietly. Once spoken aloud, the words sounded even worse, than he feared. “Chloe died, Brother. No, not on my hands. That criminal aimed well and she was already dead when I got to her.” He impatiently batted away the hand Amenadiel placed on his shoulder. “Her eyes were so empty… and…” the voice stuck in his throat.

Lucifer used to laugh off that unnecessary respect that humans had for corpses. On the crime scenes, the jokes literally poured out of him, the more improper, the better. Apparently, yesterday he got his lesson.

“But she is fine now,” reminded him Amenadiel. “You said she is fine.”

“Yes,” sighed Lucifer. “Yes, she is. Fine, safe, sleeping upstairs. I wouldn’t leave her otherwise. But that moment yesterday…” he shook his head, unable to voice overwhelming emotions. The moment, when he thought that all that left from his love was this lifeless shell of her body, would haunt him for a very, very long time.

“Tell me everything. How precisely did it happen?” demanded Amenadiel. “Did she just… woke up? Like… like us?...”

“Slower,” replied Lucifer, trying to compose himself. “Much slower. Lack of practice, I guess,” he attempted a joke and failed again. “And she, ah… didn’t notice anything. Before she came round, the police were already all over the place. I had to call them,” he defended, seeing the frown on his brother’s face. “There was the body of this gangster they needed to find. But do not worry, Brother, nothing divine had been revealed,” Lucifer observed bitingly. “The detective has already… came up with a plausible explanation of the events. So did the police. They are somehow confused, but they will decide on some theory within the… safe framework and stick to it, as usual.”

“The body of this gangster?” asked quietly Amenadiel.

Lucifer emptied his drink and poured himself another, before he replied, with a slight bridle: “He killed the detective!... In front of my eyes! No wonder that I might have lost it for a moment!...”

That was, perhaps, a mild way to describe, how the Hellfire consumed his soul and transformed his body in the second he touched Chloe’s body. How his fingers, vainly searching for her pulse, changed into claws, yearning to rip off the limbs of the human who took her life. With Angel’s wings and Devil’s skin on full display, he stood up and turned to that man to tear him into shreds and then carry his soul straight to Hell, where he could repeat it over and over again, though eternity…

“But did you…” Amenadiel swallowed anxiously, the eternal laws written so deep in his soul, that he found it difficult even to speak about it, “tell me, that you didn’t…”

“Kill him? No. I didn’t even touch him. He fell,” explained Lucifer, in the same tight words as yesterday. For the sake of his brother, he wasn’t going to dwell on details, such as his disappointed howl, when the terrified human made one step back too much and found his death in unexpected fall.

A moment later the devil realized, that the sinner didn’t escape far and his soul, ripe and ready, must have been waiting in Hell… Still, he didn’t follow his prey into the abyss of Hell, not being able to leave Chloe’s body.

 _Chloe’s body…_ Lucifer shivered at the recollection of gathering her limp form from the ground.

“And then I returned to the detective and noticed, that there was no wound on her. I also felt, that her soul didn’t pass the threshold,” he concluded, so matter-of-factly, as if he was writing one of the detective’s famous reports.

Only that it was not a report, only a bloody miracle, just as he told Miss Lopez.

When he returned to Chloe’s body and gathered her close… he noticed that. No blood. He stopped a just on the threshold despair and checked her: there was no blood on her skin, on her clothes, on his hands holding her… More, her body was not an empty, abandoned shell. Her soul was still here, on the earthly plane. He felt it.

The devil remained petrified, clutching the body of his beloved, not daring to hope, until he more felt than heard her returning heartbeat, the blood restarting to flow in her veins... With the air returning to her lungs the world started to move again.

“Once I understood that she is waking up I did my best to make sure that she would feel… safe when she comes round. Undisturbed.”

Being held by the winged devil, a monster every inch like the gargoyle from the medieval cathedral would certainly disturb even the Miracle. So, the Hellfire died on his skin, the devil’s form morphed into his more accepted appearance. He even took an effort to inform the police and tried to interact with them, though simultaneously he kept counting Chloe’s breaths as if each of them was the most precious treasure.

When she opened her eyes and started to talk with the medics, the relief almost knocked him down.

“So Chloe is not aware… of what transpired? She had no recollections… of the other side?”

“I do not think that she has been on the other side,” Lucifer shook his head. “At least she didn’t mention seeing the shiny gates with feathery sycophants in goofy robes. So, no. She is convinced she just fainted for a while.”

“And the... physical signs?” Amenadiel asked with hesitation. “I mean… I have been shot at before, and even if the skin remains untouched, the clothes always…”

“Destroyed? Like this?” Lucifer nodded with understanding, unbuttoning his jacket, to show his brother a few holes burnt in his shirt.

“Yes… How?...”

“I told you I lost it for a moment,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulder. “That gangster kept shooting and I… I didn’t pay attention. Actually, I didn’t even notice it, until much later.”

“Right, because Chloe was dead at that time,” nodded Amenadiel. “So, what about her? There must have been similar traces on her clothes. Or was she just shot in the head?”

Lucifer for a moment closed his eyes. “Somehow, I do not like you speaking about it so lightly, Brother. Yes, she had quite prominent holes in her blouse. Doubtlessly, she would be troubled if she saw them, so I turned it, back to front, while she was still unconscious. She was also wearing the jacket, so... even the medics didn’t notice. Quite superficial, these humans are. Searching only for the obvious. And when we returned home, I helped her to undress and then threw it quietly away. Satisfied?”

Amenadiel slowly shook his head. “Usually I would say it was responsible to protect the divine from the human’s eyes, but in this case… I am not sure whether it should refer to Chloe… I mean - how much human she is at the moment?.... Is it… permanent? Is Chloe immortal now? Invulnerable? Just like us?...” asked Amenadiel with growing disbelief. “Or was it… one-time occurrence?”

“How am I supposed to know?” The devil shrugged his shoulders. “Do you want me to shot her again, to make sure?”

“Of course not, but couldn’t you… test it? Like… snip her slightly, or…”

“Do me a favour and snip your empty head, will you?” snapped Lucifer, outraged with the proposition. “But I believe… it might be a permanent condition,” he added gentler after a moment.

“Yes?...”

“It is that…” Lucifer hesitated for a moment. “You said I was invulnerable to bullets because Chloe was dead. I am not that sure about it. These shots… they should have killed me and send to Hell. Just like they should kill her and send to Heaven… separating us for eternity, just as I… as I feared most,” he stuttered slightly. “And nothing like this happened. So, I think… I believe that’s the answer I got from the Father,” he concluded.

Amenadiel blinked in confusion. “That’s… curious theory, but…”

“But I have also tried to ‘snip’ myself, as you put it, a bit later,” Lucifer cut him off with a slightly forced chuckle. “While the detective, very much alive, was taking a shower. Didn’t work. Therefore, I believe there is a high probability, that the detective shares that… feature, which would mean that… at least for a time being, we are, indeed… well more invulnerable than not.”

“Lucifer, but… That would mean…” Amenadiel stuttered and silenced, lost for words.

Lucifer shrugged his shoulders again. “Father kept his silence for eons, but once he made a statement, he was thorough.”

“Statement?...”

Lucifer only shook his head, not trusting his voice. He did his best to maintain the air of nonchalance, but inside, he was shaken. If he… bargained Chloe’s life from Father, if he bought it, paying the hefty price… if he tricked Father, by ruse or manipulation, by finding the clever loophole… that would be something he understood. That was something familiar, something he was good at: a game of guiles and negotiations… However Father… threw away all the cards he kept in his sleeve. His leverage. Lucifer’s vulnerability around Chloe, her mortality – all he considered to be the gist of Father’s plan… the tool to exercise His will and bent Lucifer’s. And Father simply… give it away, just like that.

“And in return?...” asked quietly Amenadiel.

Lucifer grimaced with a certain reluctance. “Nothing. That was not a deal,” he said curtly, struggling with discomfort. Usually, he was the giver. He was providing gifts, no receiving them.

“I guess Father just wanted me to ask,” he added, looking aside.

Ah, he read the intent behind it all. He saw it so clearly as if the Father spoke to him.

_No bargain, no blackmail, no threat. No advantage. The decisions based on free will and free will only. Just as you wished. What will you do now, prodigal son?_

Now, and who would guess, that it is the best way to corner the devil? With unconditional generosity?

“Lucifer, so do you think that the plan…”

“I do not want to speak about it now,” he cut Amenadiel off once again, clearing his throat, to get rid of the uncomfortable cramp clenching it.

His brother nodded, feeling that he shouldn’t press the subject, so he commented only: “I am just glad you got your answers, Luci.”

“I am sure that you will find yours too,” Lucifer observed with unusual by him impulse of empathy. Then he checked his watch, noticing with slight anxiety, that the detective must have already been waking up. “Now, Brother, I have a few errands to make. You can accompany me, if you wish. Let me just change and off we go. I should have some shirt stashed downstairs, in the club…”

“In the club? Downstairs?” frowned Amenadiel. “Wait, are you trying to avoid Chloe?”

“Indeed I do,” replied Lucifer lightly. “I need to give her some time to… to order her memories into some safe, plausible fram. Otherwise… In my presence, she could notice, that I am… disturbed. She would ask questions and perhaps deduce, that there was more into the whole affair. She is a detective after all. Without me, she will safely reach the secure ground of rationalism and everything would be rain and dandy again.”

Amenadiel raised his eyebrows, the question clearly written over his face.

“I cannot discuss it with her right now,” replied honestly Lucifer. “That she died and is alive. That she is a Miracle and I am the Devil. Especially that last part. I need to… regain control over the events. You know, to return to this safe frame for a while,” he made an undefined gesture and stood up, to indicate the end of the conversation.

“Fine,” nodded Amenadiel, though he looked unconvinced. “Anyway, I guess I should change too if I am to help you with your errands. Where do you need to go?”

“To Hell,” replied Lucifer so casually as of it was a name of a new high-end restaurant. “Oscar Tejada is still waiting for my attention. What? I didn’t forget about him, even if I had to delay this matter. Considerable delay, especially in Hell’s time… but that’s fine. Some things are best served cold, after all,” smirked the devil.

Yes, he was going to change his shirt go out, have some fun… and pretend, that nothing happened, just for a while longer.

* * *

Chloe woke up early, gnawed by an unpleasant feeling as if something bad happened. The apartment was empty, except Dip dozing by her bed. She found the note from Lucifer on the night table, informing her – in sweet words and elegant handwriting – that he needed to meet Amenadiel. The breakfast waiting for her in the kitchen, neatly secured under the silver cover, and there was a freshly brewed coffee in the pot.

Theoretically, everything was in order, and yet… her discomfort grew, like a cold, unpleasant touch on her insides.

She simply would prefer Lucifer to be here.

She drank coffee and tried to eat breakfast, but somehow she had no appetite, feeling more and more lonely with each passing minute.

“What’s the use of having a boyfriend, if he is never there when I am feeling off?” she complained to Dip and immediately regretted her words. After all, nothing happened. Of course, she took an unnecessary risk yesterday. It was stupid of her, and actually, she should apologize to Lucifer for putting them both at danger. Really, she should have known better. Still, everything ended well. There was no need for Lucifer to pamper her.

Fleetingly, she recalled, how… clingy he was yesterday, helping her to undress and to shower and staying with her until she fell asleep… However, today was a new day, Lucifer went to his business and she should to the same. After all, there were a few things she should take care of, right?

Only that she couldn’t concentrate on anything.

Yes, she would like to talk with Lucifer. About what happened yesterday.

Because she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

She couldn’t forget the sight of the gun, aimed straight at her. It was not that she was scared, though she was, a little bit. She was used to that kind of stress. But… there was something wrong in this memory.

Chloe’s made a few steps around the room, trying to recreate her position, and Tejada’s, and the angle of his hand, and the gun… Dip barked shortly, confused by her behaviour, and the detective patted calmingly his neck, her thoughts still occupied with the last day’s events.

“I am a very good shot, you know?” she confided to the dog. “That’s my speciality. There are others who are perhaps more observant… or better at data… or know how to speak with people… I am not a computer geek and I am not that… clever during the interrogations. But the one thing I am really good at is shooting. And I know when someone is aiming at me and going to hit!... So why didn’t he?” she finished almost with desperation.

The dog whined quietly and Chloe shook her head, trying to compose herself. Why was she searching for that… proverbial mouse in her head? The guy missed, obviously. Lucky her.

She could go to the precinct, but they would only ask her questions, that she didn’t know how to answer. After a short call to Dan, who confirmed, that her presence was not necessary, Chloe wondered, how could she… calm down. Had she been at home, she would start cleaning, or washing, to disperse her irrational anxiety in physical effort. However, Lucifer’s apartment was spotlessly clean. She wouldn’t dare to even think about ordering his wardrobe, and he didn’t even have a washing machine, most of his things dry-cleaned only.

She could watch TV. Or read. Or go for a walk.

And yet, the only thing she could do, was to recall, how she saw this gun, aimed at her, bound to shot her – which never happened.

She was wrong.

She saw it wrong.

A mistake in perception.

 _Actually, it wouldn’t be the first_. With a chill running down her spine, Chloe recalled another occurrence, when her senses failed her: in that cellar, where she was imprisoned, just at the moment when Lucifer and Maze came to her rescue. She had… some kind of hallucinations: dark shapes in a strange red hue, howling, otherworldly sounds… and she couldn’t recall how Lucifer got her out. Till today, she felt justified - after all, she was about to be killed.

But now it repeated. Another life-threatening situation, another perception disturbances and the next memory loss…. Suddenly all the pieces started to fall together in one, worrying picture.

Chloe nervously bit her nails, forcing herself to face the facts. She couldn’t trust her senses anymore. In stressful situations, she was… losing it.

Just great, considering what she did for a living.

“There are psych evals, to avoid… something like this happening to the cops,” she informed Dip. “When people… overreact to stress, they are sent for longer holidays,” now she laughed nervously, because – hello – she was just finishing the longest holidays in her life. She could not possibly be more rested… especially with Lucifer taking care of her.

So, she would need to attend therapy. And until it would be proven successful, they would take her gun and sent her to desk work.

She would become a clerk.

Ah, scratch it. She knew what to tell during the evals. She would give them proper replies and they would consider her healthy and…

… and the next time she would think that some poor perp is aiming at her, while he would be… raising his hands, to surrender, or something like this… she would take an ID for a gun… or a cigarette for a knife… and shoot some innocent guy down… such things happened, did they not?...

Chloe imagined the consequences.

Weariness, fear and stress, cumulating since yesterday, now washed over her and she slumped down onto the floor. The tears started to flow down her cheeks.

“I cannot return to work,” she sobbed, reaching for Dip, to cuddle the animal closer. “I am… not fit to service… I am useless…”

_Not useless. Perfect._

The words, definitely not spoken by anyone, sounded in her head clear and laud. Another testimony, that she was losing her senses. Chloe gasped, panicked – but at this moment Dip sneaked from under her hands and run toward the kitchen. The detective heard him romping in the trash.

“Oh, please,” she muttered reluctantly, even if a moment before she wanted to have something to clean. She wiped the tears and clambered to her feet to follow the animal. “What’s gotten into you? You cannot be hungry, your bowl…” she interrupted, seeing that Dip was dragging from the trash some rug, in which she recognized her blouse.

Right. It wasn’t the first time when Lucifer tried to throw away a piece of her clothing, which he considered… too inferior. For a moment, Chloe forgot her distress, due to the wave of irritation.

“For Heaven’s Sake, what was it now? Too flannel or too baggy?” she huffed angrily, reaching for the blouse.

But then she recalled, that it was the blouse she was wearing yesterday, during their escapade to Tejada’s hiding.

The blouse, that had now a few holes burnt in it, just in the middle.

* * *

“Okay. Okay,” Chloe, blouse in hand, the material stretched to expose the holes, sat on the leather sofa. Dip followed her and laid by her feet. “Slowly. Let’s just… think for a moment.”

She took a few deep breaths and, as calmly as she could, examined the fabric. Nope, the holes weren’t burnt by a cigarette. It didn’t smell like this. The detective knew how the gunshot holes in the clothes look: exactly like these, plus the bloodstains.

Of course, there must have been an explanation. Someone… could have shot her blouse? After she took it off? Here, in the penthouse?

But that sounded so… stupid.

The detective stared helplessly at the piece of clothing in her hands.

“That’s just too much,” she sighed to Dip, who nuzzled her knees with a quiet whine. “I just… I do not get it. Too many things… simply do not fit. I mean… am I crazy? Am I… imagining things?...”

All that weird occurrences she managed to ignore in the last weeks now came back to her, like an avalanche. The locks, that open on their own. The flames, that burst out, just like that. The darkness, that was filled with red hue and shadows. Words, that worked like… spells, forcing people to bare their souls…

Somehow, she was used to accepting all this. But now… now she felt as if she crossed some limit. Keeping her shot-through blouse, struggling with the memory gaps from the last day… she couldn’t ignore it all anymore.

“I am getting worse. More… crazy?...” Chloe reached for her blouse again and put her fingers through the holes. The material in her hands was as physical as it could be but what if she was imagining all this? From the beginning? Maybe this all was just the symptoms of the mental sickness, that was worsening?

There were movies themed like this. The inexplicable events that piled, one after another - and finally it all turned out to be a figment of the hero’s unstable brain.

Or maybe it was a ghost story. Yeah, it turned out that the main character was a ghost. Whatever.

Chloe rubbed nervously her face, forgetting that she was still keeping the blouse in her hands. Yes, it still smelled of gunpowder… only perhaps it didn’t? Perhaps there was no hole in the fabric, or maybe no blouse at all, this all being nothing but her imagination? Perhaps she was entirely somewhere else, in an asylum, not in this stupidly luxurious apartment with the big shepherd dog laying by her feet? Actually, once she thought about it, it seemed quite odd…

“No, stop.” Chloe shook her head and inhaled deeply once again. “I am not crazy. I am not. Everything can be explained. I just need to…”

But what if she was?

Was it hereditary? Would Trixie have it in her genes too?

Oh, no.

Giving up, Chloe sank onto the floor, curling into a ball. The tears started to flow down her cheeks again. “I just do not understand anything anymore. It is… too much. Do I need a doctor?...”

_No._

The word, the objection, sounded in her head loud and clear when the hound cautiously nuzzled her knees. Chloe sobbed louder, hiding the face in the dog’s fur.

_No._

The dog whined, a bit hectically and then… then it washed over her, the wave of… pictures and emotions... The vision?...

_The maze of paths, greyish, surrealistic countryside. Stone walls and doors… so many doors. Howls, screams. Time and space, flexible and endless. Many, many pictures, of people and places, most of them unrecognizable, some terrifying…_

“Oh, God,” Chloe gasped, overburdened, pressing the fingers to her temples. It was true. She was having hallucinations.

Determined and even a bit calmer, once the problem was identified, she clambered from the floor and reached for the phone. She would start with calling Linda, and then the doctor she would recommend her… Or maybe, considering the… intensity of this last experience, she should call straight to the ER?

The dog barked, with an urgency she never heard by him before.

Chloe turned, surprised – the animal stood tensed, motionless, bearing his dark eyes into her with almost human intelligence… She looked straight into them.

This time the vision was much more… perceptible.

_The green hill with olive trees. Warm sun, surprisingly clean air and above all – the smells. Wonderful variety of the most exciting smells. Chloe felt the shiver of curiosity and the need to examine them all._

_“That’s Earth,” Lucifer’s voice, slightly amused sounded by her side._

_Lucifer looked… different. No suit, just some dark and soft fabric draped over his shoulders. Longer, curly hair. He was exotically handsome, but… there was something in the set of his jaw, in the line of his mouth… something not necessarily cruel, but still, Chloe would approach him with caution. Or, perhaps, she would not approach him at all._

_“We have a runaway to find. One of your kind,” his voice deprived of the familiar suave accent, sounded colder than Chloe was used to. “Nose him out, find him, fetch to me,” he ordered obliviously._

_“Just do not hurry. I want to take my time,” he added, pulling the hood over his head and turned back, leaving._

The picture blurred into darkness and darkness - into the familiar surroundings of the apartment. At first, Chloe for a moment regretted the loss of the clean, fragrant air. Then she blinked with confusion. “What?... How?...”

_Earth. The first time._

Chloe shook her head, almost understanding, but then the pictures flooded her again. Slower than the first time, but still chaotic. The greyish maze, filled with longing and terror. The door, endless doors, with an unnamed sorrow hidden behind them. Creatures from nightmares. The visions of Earth, like jewels interwoven into the dark fabric – outbursts of colours, smells and tastes.

_Fresh ground, wet soil._

_Plants. Wonderful, fresh and humid. In dozens of shapes, textures and smells._

_Laughter. But also shrieks and cries. Fire._

_Maze, charcoal eyes, naked breasts, leaning over something marble, with a lazy smile: “Wait here, he is with humans.”_

_Maze again, less make-up, more leather, curved blade in hand. “Let’s have some fun.”_

_Lucifer, throwing quick orders. “Find him.” “Search it.” “Scare them, just a little.” “Less blood this time.” Different hairstyles, similarly distracted expression. The tense coldness in his features slowly dissipating into boredom._

_Lucifer, very, very angry, something weird happening with his eyes._

_Monsters, again._

_A mirror, reflecting a black dog-shaped beast with the red fire in his eyes._

“Oh,” said Chloe. “No. That’s not…”

_A monster in Lucifer’s suit, sitting in the middle of a rocky labyrinth. “Y_ _ou would require a new shape. Humans are all about appearances.” So much bitterness._

_Lucifer, such as Chloe knows him. More… focused. In his guest room, with Chloe’s things scattered around. “You will guard… Like something precious.”_

_The picture blurs into the whirlwind of sensations, smells, shapes, noises – and emotions. So much unnamed emotions, that Chloe is getting lost, like at the beginning. She cannot distinguish them anymore, she only knows these are good feeling – and she, Chloe, is in the middle of it._

_New._ _Special. Unique._

_Loved by the devil_

_The Queen. The change._

_The promise. “I won’t leave you again,” says herself in the Maze’s apartment, with much more gravity than she recalls. “So be it,” sounds Lucifer’s voice she does not recall at all_

_Herself, asleep, sleeping restlessly in the bed. Sweated forehead, bruised cheek, bandaged wrists. Lucifer leaning over her with concern. Glorious wings, breathtakingly beautiful, appearing behind his back, while he kneels by the side of her bed. “Come here,” he calls the dog with the unprecedented softness._

The pictures faded away, into silence.

Chloe remained seated, motionless, staring into the space in front of her, seeing nothing.

“That still doesn’t prove that I am not crazy,” she said finally, carefully pronouncing each word. “Actually, it proves otherwise.”

She even looked around searching for her phone again, but her movements lacked conviction and soon she resigned, leaning back on the sofa again.

She couldn’t have… imagined it all. She simply couldn’t. After all, she has never seen things like these.

Except of the wings, of course. She saw the wings, on this auction, and the next time later, when FBI tried to give them back to Lucifer – who, all of the sudden, wasn’t interested in getting them back at all. They were lovely, but after a closer inspection – nothing more than a piece of polyester.

What she saw in her… vision moment before was… so much more. These wings were pure light, and blessing and grace… something from the better world.

And the… rest? All these… monsters? The timeless suffering?

The centuries, passing through Lucifer’s eyes?

Was it all… her imagination, the figment of her disturbed mind… or did she just looked behind the veil and saw another world, Lucifer’s world, no less real than hers?

Chloe trembled, wrapping her arms around her. She felt like… walking at the edge of a precipice. One wrong step, one wrong thought, and she would fell into madness. She was… so close to a fatal mistake, either by rejecting these… visions, or by accepting them.

She needed… something to anchor herself. Some proof, she could grasp. Something… real.

The detective slowly looked at the dog.

“Show me,” she forced the words out of her throat because she felt so terribly stupid speaking to the dog – but it was he, right? He was the one… common point, joining all this. The piece of this other world, here, with her.

He could give her the proof she needed.

“Show me,” she repeated. “You let me see your… reflection in the mirror, right? The real you. Show me now, here.”

The dog whined, shifting back.

“Come on. You started the subject, now I need to know,” she encouraged him, but to no avail. The dog closed his eyes and looked as if he wanted to squeeze himself into the ground.

“It was you, right? So, either you prove it true, or… I am getting more and more insane… which is, actually, much more likely, because now I am talking to the dog…” at the end of the sentence, Chloe’s voice shook, when she heard how stupid it sounded.

For a moment, she felt like drowning in the wave of panic. Insane, of course, that she was getting insane, just like Lucifer. Perhaps his delusions were contagious. No, mental illnesses were not contagious… or were they?...

Oh, she was so… miserable. A moment before she felt close to some… discovery, but now… now it was like falling into the abyss again. And somehow it was all about this dog in front of her, looking at her with such unhappy sight…

Such an intelligent sight. He understood everything she said.

All of the sudden, her fear turned into anger. Chloe stood up, wiped the tears from her eyes, and demanded.

“Queen, right? I heard something about being the queen. So that’s an order. Show me.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment and just when she was about to admit, how terrible idiot she made of herself and collapse into despair – the air around the dog flickered.

It was like a shadow, at first. An afterimage, a trick of the light. Then like a hologram, a mapping reflecting the clever design to reshape the real surface. Only that the real surface ceased to be real and the illusion turned into the tangible object.

The… creature standing in front of Chloe was at least twice, or perhaps even trice as big as her shepherd. Its fur was charcoal black and the eyes – even sadder than before – filled with a reddish hue.

Its very presence seemed to suck the light out of the room.

A genetic memory in Chloe’s brain whispered her stories about the _black dog_ , the creature of nightmares, a phantom menace… Her primal instinct urged her to run. However, she followed the other compulsion, the one that forced her to search for the truth, to the deepest bottom of it, to the proof, that would leave no space for doubt.

So, instead of running, she made a hesitant step forward. Then, the next one.

The beast remained motionless, not letting his otherworldly eyes from her. As far as Chloe could tell, he was no less terrified than she. The hound was so high, that his head was almost on the same level as her, but when she neared, he lowered himself to the floor, his head no more than a few inches from her feet.

Chloe crossed the remaining distance and knelt by his side. Her heart was thumping like after a run and her hands were trembling when she raised them – and the black dog also trembled, as in a fever, when she finally touched him.

“You are real,” she said with a mild surprise, too shocked to register anything but the rough texture of the fur and the warmth of the flesh under her fingers. “This is all true.”


End file.
